DISCOURSES 

ON 

SOME IMPORTANT SUBJECTS 

OF 

0jitm&\ & MttotuUft sKUttg ton* 

INTRODUCED BY 

A SHORT VIEW 

OF THE 

BEST SPECIMENS OF PULPIT ELOQUENCE, 

WHICH 

HAVE BEEN GIVEN TO THE WORLD 

IN 

Ancient antr Hftotrern €imw. 

BY 

DAVID SCOT, M. D, 

MINISTER OF CORSTORPHINE, 



EDINBURGH : 

PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. 
AND HURST, ROBINSON AND CO. LONDON. 

1825, 



/ 
/ 



EDINBURGH :— TRINTED BY JAMES COLSTON. 



CONTENTS, 



A rapid view of the best specimens of 
Pulpit Eloquence which have been 
given to the world in Ancient and 
Modern times. — p. xiii. 

DISCOURSE I. 

ON THE TOLERATION OF OPINIONS IN 
RELIGION. 

Rom. xv. 1. 

We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the 
weak, and not please ourselves, p. — 1. 

DISCOURSE II. 

ON THE TOLERATION OF OBSERVANCES 
IN RELIGION. 

Rom. xv. 1. 



We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the 
weak, and not please ourselves, — p. 21. 



iv. 



DISCOURSE III. 

ON THE PROOF OF A GOD FROM THE 
MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 

Rom. i. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the 
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
that are made, even his eternal power and godhead ; 
so that they are without excuse.-^— p. 37. 

DISCOURSE IV. 

ON THE PROOF OF A GOD FROM VEGETABLE, 
ANIMAL, AND RATIONAL LIFE. 

Rom. i. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the 
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
that are made, even his eternal power and godhead ; 
so that they are without excuse. — p. 53. 

DISCOURSE V. 

ON THE PROOF OF A GOD FROM THE 
INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL 
NATURE OF MAN. 

Rom. i. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the 
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
that are made, even his eternal power and godhead ; 
so that they are without excuse. — p. 67. 



v. 



DISCOURSE VI. 

ON THE PROOF ARISING FROM THE CONSENT 
OF MANKIND IN BELIEVING A GOD. 

Rom. i. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the 
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
that are made, even his eternal power and godhead; 
so that they are without excuse. — p. 81. 

DISCOURSE VII. 

ON THE TRUTH OF A PROVIDENCE. 

Matth. x; 29, 30, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing, and one of 
them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many 
sparrows. — p. 95. 

DISCOURSE VIII. 

ON A GENERAL PROVIDENCE, 

Matth. x. 29, 30, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and one of 
them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many 
sparrows. — p. 111. 



vi. 

DISCOURSE IX. 

ON A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. 

Matth. x. 29, 30, 81. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and one of 
them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many 
sparrows. — p. 125. 

DISCOURSE X. 

ON THE SATISFACTION WHICH THE 
CONTEMPLATION OF PROVIDENCE 
GIVES TO A GOOD MAN. 

Matth. x. 29, 30, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and one of 
them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many 
sparrows. — p. 139. 

DISCOURSE XI. 

DUTY OF ATTENDING TO AND OBSERVING 
THE COURSE OF PROVIDENCE. ' 

Matt. x. 29, 30, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and one of 
them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are more of value than many 
sparrows. — p. 151. 



vii. 



DISCOURSE XII. 

ON THE RISE, NATURE AND USE OF THE 
FEAR OF GOD. 

Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, surely the fear 
of God is not in this place ; and they will slay me for 
my wife's sake. — p. 163. 

DISCOURSE XIII. 

ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE FEAR OF GOD 
ON THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT OF MEN. 

Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Surely the fear 
of God is not in this place ; and they will slay me for 
my wife's sake. — p. 177. 

DISCOURSE XIV. 

ON THE WEAKNESS AND INSUFFICIENCY OF 
REASON AND HONOUR, AS SUBSTITUTES 
FOR THE FEAR OF GOD. 

Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, surely the fear 
of God is not in this place ; and they will slay me for 
my wife's sake. — p. 189- 



viii. 



DISCOURSE XV. 

ON THE WEAKNESS AND INSUFFICIENCY 
OF BENEVOLENCE, AND POLITICAL 
INSTITUTIONS, AS SUBSTITUTES 
FOR THE FEAR OF GOD. 

Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Surely the fear 
of God is not in this place ; and they will slay me for 
my wife's sake. — p. 203. 

DISCOURSE XVI. 

ON REGULATING AND IMPROVING THE 
FEAR OF GOD. 

Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Surely the fear 
of God is not in this place ; and they will slay me for 
my wife's sake. — p. 217. 

DISCOURSE XVII. 

ON TRUSTING IN GOD, AND DOING GOOD. 
Psalms xxxvii. 3. 



Trust in the Lord, and do good ; so shalt thou dwell in 
the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. — p. 227. 



IX. 



DISCOURSE XVIII. 

ON SERVING GOD, AND OBEYING HIS VOICE. 

Joshua xxiv. £4. 

And the people said unto Joshua, the Lord our God 
will we serve, and his voice will we obey. — p. 247. 

DISCOURSE XIX. 

ON THE GREATNESS AND DIGNITY OF 
CHRIST DURING HIS ABODE 
UPON EARTH. 

Matth. xxvii. 54. 

Now, when the centurion, and they that were with him 
watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things 
that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this 
was the Son of God.— p. 263, 

DISCOURSE XX. 

ON THE FITNESS OF THE TIME AT WHICH 
CHRIST APPEARED UPON EARTH. 

Gal. iv. 4. 

When the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth 
his Son, &c— p. 283. 

DISCOURSE XXL 

ON THE FITNESS OF THE TIME AT WHICH 
CHRIST APPEARED UPON EARTH. 

Gal. iv. 4. 

When the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth 
his Son, &c— p. 301. 



DISCOURSE XXIL 

ON THE SOCINIAN, ARMINIAN, CALVINIST1C> 
AND ANTINOMIAN THEORIES OF 
JUSTIFICATION. 

Philip, hi. 9. 

Not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, 
but that which is through the faith of Christ, the 
righteousness which is of God by faith. — p. 815. 

DISCOURSE XXIII. 

ON THE LIVES OF CHRISTIANS CONSIDERED 
AS BETTER THAN THOSE OF HEATHENS. 

1 Tim. vi. 1. 

Let as many servants as are under the yoke count their 
own masters worthy of all honour, that the name of 
God and his doctrine be not blasphemed. — p. 337. 

DISCOURSE XXIV. 

ON CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED AS TRUE, 
HOWEVER BAD MAY BE THE LIVES 
OF ITS PROFESSORS, 

1 Tim. vi. 1. 

Let as many servants as are under the yoke count their 
own masters worthy of all honour, that the name of 
God and his doctrine be not blasphemed,— p. 353. 



xi. 



DISCOURSE XXV. 

ON THE LIBERTY WHICH CHRIST 
COMMUNICATES TO HIS 
DISCIPLES. 

John viii. 36. 

If the Son, therefore, shall make you free, ye shall be 
free indeed. — p. 869. 

DISCOURSE XXVI. 

ON THE LIBERTY WHICH CHRIST 
COMMUNICATES TO HIS 
DISCIPLES. 

John viii. 36. 

If the Son, therefore, shall make you free, ye shall be 
free indeed.— p. 383. 

DISCOURSE XXVII. 

ON PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 

Isaiah xxxviii. 1. 

In those days was Hezekiah sick unto death, and Isaiah, 
the prophet, the son of Amoz, came unto him, and 
said unto him, Thus saith the Lord, set thine house 
in order, for thou shalt die, and not live. — p. 397. 



xii. 



DISCOURSE XXVIII. 

ON THE PURPOSES, FOR WHICH MOSES AND 
ELIAS APPEARED TO CHRIST, WHEN 
TRANSFIGURED. 

Luke ix. 30, 81. 

And, behold, there talked with him two men, which 
were Moses and Elias ; who appeared in glory, and 
spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at 
Jerusalem. — p. 425. 

DISCOURSE XXIX. 

ON CHRIST'S RAISING THE WIDOW OF 
NAIN'S SON FROM THE DEAD. 

Luke vii. 11 — 47. 

And it came to pass, the day after, that he went into a 
city called Nain, and many of his disciples went with 
him, and much people. Now, when he came nigh to 
the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man 
carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was 
a widow : and much people of the city was with her. 
And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on 
her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and 
touched the bier : and they that bare him stood still. 
And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. 
And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. 
And he delivered him to his mother. And there came 
a fear on all : and they glorified God, saying, That a 
great prophet is risen up among us ; and that God 
hath visited his people. And this rumour of him 
went forth throughout all Judea, and throughout all 
the region round about. — p. 445. 



A RAPID VIEW 

OF 
OF 

PULPIT ELOQUENCE, 

WHICH 

HAVE BEEN GIVEN TO THE WORLD 

IN 

The origin of the Sermon, or Pulpit Ora- 

- 

tion, is to be sought in the nature of man. 
It is a more formal or stately way of giv- 
ing advice ; which all men are disposed to 
give, and which the wise are not unwill- 
ing to receive. 

A kind of it is of high antiquity. In 
this way the priests among the Jews ex- 
plained the law of Moses. All had not 
copies of the law, and few probably could 
read them ; and the priests were the per- 



xiv. 

sons who undertook to read and explain 
to the people. 

This explanation, at least, was a regu- 
lar exercise, after the return from the 
Babylonish captivity. Ezra, it is express- 
ly said, commanded the law to be read and 
explained to the people ; and the exer- 
cise was continued to the time of our Sa- 
viour, which was a period of five or six 
hundred years. 

Our Saviour, when his public ministry 
began, countenanced the practice. When 
he first entered the synogogue of Nazar- 
eth, as the Messiah of the prophets, he 
turned to the passage in the Old Testa- 
ment for the day, and, in the comments 
whichhe made upon it, applied it to himself. 

As to our Lord's discourses, which from 
that time he addressed to the people, they 
were all unpremeditated, and arose out of 
the course of conversation, ordinary occur- 
rences, or casual incidents. His preaching, 
if so we call it, was plain and practical, se- 
rious and earnest. He always spoke as one 



XV. 



who had the best interests of men at heart, 
and his words were seasonable, instructive, 
and consolatory.* 

The preaching of the apostles was of 
the same character ; useful, but unadorn- 
ed ; reaching both the understanding 
and the heart ; not the persuasive words 
of men's wisdom, but the demonstration of 
the spirit with power ; discanting on their 
Master's mighty works, proving from the 
scriptures that this was the very Christ, 
and inviting men to receive him on these 
terms, on which he was offered. 

Such also was the manner of their suc- 
cessors, but, as learned men began to a- 
bound in the church, and controversy with 
the heathens to be carried on, a different 
manner arose. Their discourses became 
rhetorical, bombastic, and declamatory. If 
excellency had consisted of wire-drawn 
figures of speech, and laboured distortions 



* In two unpublished Discourses, the author has given a detailed ac- 
eount of Christ's character, as a Teacher of religion. 



XVI. 



of language, they would have been emi- 
nent ; but they could ill deserve that 
character, when so destitute of judgment 
and taste. 

One of the best preachers in the pri- 
mitive church was John Chrysostom. He 
was copious and ornamented, but at the 
same time redundant and verbose. He 
was the most eloquent of the Greek fa- 
thers, and a better model of matter and 
style than any of the Latin fathers. He 
was very zealous in correcting the man- 
ners of the age, and has drawn a true pic- 
ture of it in his sermons. On that and 
other accounts, he deserves to be studied 
by those, who cultivate pulpit eloquence. 

After his time, ignorance and superstition 
began more and more to prevail, and pulpit 
eloquence for some centuries before the 
reformation was woefully degraded. It 
was either employed in the praise of some 
saint, who, when the truth was told, was 
either a fool or a knave ; or it was the in- 
strument of extorting money to replenish 



xvii. 



the Pope's coffers, in order to squander it 
on his pleasures, or enrich his nephews, 
alias bastards. 

After the reformation, pulpit eloquence 
appeared in a more dignified and respect- 
able light. It was vehement, scriptural, 
and learned. It had the glory of God, and 
the salvation of men at heart. Assisted 
by the hopes, as well as the terrors of a 
future state, it was mighty to the pulling 
down of the strong holds of sin and Satan, 
and flashed conviction in the face of the 
most thoughtless and obstinate offender. 

The reformation began in Germany, 
though the seeds of it had been sown long 
before in other countries, and vast talent was 
called forth in its defence ; but we are not 
aware, that many models of fine preaching 
have been given by German divines. At 
least the fame of them has not reached 
this country. 

In later times Zollikofer is almost the 
only preacher, with whose merits w r e are 
acquainted He is rich and flowing, exalt- 



XV11I. 



ed and heavenly. As a preacher, he would 
have been an ornament to any country. 
Men of pliancy, rather than ability, are no- 
ticed by crowned heads ; but the king of 
Prussia shewed great good sense in patro- 
nising this eloquent divine. 

The French have excelled in preaching, 
as well as all other arts. Four seem to 
carry away the palm from the rest, and 
these appeared in the reign of Lewis XIV. 
No doubt good preachers have appeared 
in other reigns, but hitherto these have 
eclypsed all that have appeared. 

Flechier, Bishop of Nismes, has a chaste 
and correct style, and discovers good sense, 
as well as good taste. His sermons and 
panegyrics are not so attracting, as his fu- 
neral orations. That on the death of 
Turrene is perhaps the best, and, as was 
to be expected, made a powerful impres- 
sion on the audience. 

Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, was great 
and unrivalled as an orator, though fac- 
tious and narrow as a politician. His fame 



xix. 



rests on his funeral orations, and they 
stand at the top of vigorous and impres- 
sive discourses. Though impetuous in a 
high degree, he shews uncommon art in 
managing the passions. He never goes 
beyond the proper point. His sermons 
are loose and imperfect effusions, on which 
he has bestowed no labour ; but his funeral 
orations shew what he could do, when he 
exerted himself. 

Bourdaloue was a liberal minded and 
well educated man. He is reckoned a 
capital preacher by his countrymen, and 
though that merit cannot be denied him, 
yet in our judgment he is too scholastic 
and tedious. He has abundance of ideas, 
but he wants selection. More elegance 
and compression must be studied by those, 
who aspire at eminence in preaching. 

Massillon, Bishop of Clermont, may be 
esteemed the prince of preachers, whether 
in France or any other country. His ser- 
mons discover wonderful knowledge of hu- 
man nature, and enter deeply into human 



XX. 



character. He is natural, grave, serious, 
and moving. He at once commands the 
attention and gains the heart. It is grati- 
fying and delightful to read his sermons ; 
and what must it have been to hear them ! 

It has been usual to join Saurin to the 
French preachers. He was a protestant, 
whereas the four just mentioned were ca- 
tholics. He is certainly eloquent, but nei- 
ther in matter nor manner does he equal 
the four just mentioned. We think he 
wants elegance, compression, and force. 

England has justly been celebrated for 
pulpit eloquence ; and no country has giv- 
en finer specimens of the art, though the 
authors have been thought to have con- 
sulted reason more than imagination ; and 
it is often been said, that to make a per- 
fect sermon, would require French viva- 
city, united with English gravity. 

Barrow is exuberant and nervous; al- 
ways eloquent, but never select ; always 
important in matter, but loose in manner ; 
always exhausting the subject, and leaving 



xxi. 



nothing for others to say. Had the file 
been more rigorously used, lie would have 
been read with more pleasure. 

Tillotson had once a great reputation* 
though it is rather now on the wane. In 
style he is flat and careless, but in thought 
rational and devout. In all his sermons 
we perceive the uncommon worth of the 
man, however minute may be his divisions, 
or unsuited to our times his contests with 
the Popish writers. 

South was a man of keen wit, and great 
penetration. . He abounds in fine passages 
and shrewd observations ; but betrays 
too much of party spirit, and violent poli- 
tical feeling, either to be a good man, or 
an acceptable preacher. His sermons are 
original and forcible ; but too long and 
elaborate ; too sneering and satirical. 

Atterbury, who was as high in politics 
as South, is a much better preacher. His 
spirit is excellent, and his style easy, 
though his matter is not deep, nor his 
comprehension great. He is sometimes 



xxii. 

forced and injudicious, but he introduces 
scripture-quotations with the happiest ef- 
fect. 

Seeker is a most useful, though not an 
eloquent preacher. He evinces a fine mo- 
ral vein, and none is better at describing 
the christian virtues. He is always at 
home, when discussing these topics. In 
these he shines, and in these he is in his 
element. To his merits as a preacher, he 
adds those of a biblical critic. 

Clarke, however dry, is always clear. We 
admire the nicety of his judgment, while 
we miss the graces of imagination. No 
man could better unravel a knotty point 
in divinity, explain scripture to better pur- 
pose, or quote it with greater propriety ; 
but he is rather a critic and philosopher 
than a pulpit orator. 

Butler is also highly philosophical, as 
well as truly original. He was a great 
master of human nature, and delineated 
with great exactness the faculties, propen- 
sities, and habits of man. His style has 



♦ 



xxiii. 



sometimes been condemned, but his turn 
of thought is profound and interesting. 
His sermons on self-deceit, and the char- 
acter of Balaam, are reckoned models of 
their kind. 

Seed is a beautiful writer, but not with- 
out considerable faults. He abounds in 
images and flowers ; but sometimes pushes 
his figures into conceits. Most of his ser- 
mons before the university of Oxford are 
spoiled by metaphysics. Had his judg- 
ment been equal to his imagination, none 
would have surpassed him. His sermon on 
charity in the posthumous volume is very 
excellent. 

Sherlock was a man of high talents, and 
we have the highest opinion of his dis- 
courses. They give masterly views of re- 
ligion, and often place the superiority of 
revealed to natural religion in the most 
striking light. Though he is rather a rea- 
soner than an eloquent writer, yet he in- 
troduces and manages figurative language 
with great judgment and beauty. 



xxiv. 



Sterne, who was contemporary with Sher- 
lock, has always been reckoned an excellent 
writer of sermons, and most of those which 
he published himself, will bear a compari- 
son with any in the English language. 
Those, that were published by his widow, 
are less perfect, and contain whole pages 
of those published by himself. He was 
a great borrower from himself, as well as 
others ; though all that comes through 
his hands has an air of originality. The 
gravity of the divine is sometimes lost in 
that of the buffoon. 

Not to mention others, we consider 
Porteous, late Bishop of London, as one 
of the best preachers, which England has 
produced. He is flowing and serious, and 
at the same time pious and benevo- 
lent. As he was one of the best of men, 
so also was he one of the most graceful 
of speakers. His lectures on Matthew were 
heard with deep interest, when he deliver- 
ed them ; and with no less interest are they 



XXV. 



read, since they have been committed to 
paper. 

In Scotland, notwithstanding the ac- 
knowledged talent of the country, and the 
masterly compositions in history and poe- 
try, philosophy and criticism, which have 
of late appeared ; there are few good spe- 
cimens of pulpit eloquence. Occasionally 
a posthumous volume, to get a little 
money for the author's widow, sees the 
light, but scarcely ever one published by 
the author himself. This practice is most 
hurtful to the author, whatever benefit it 
may be to his family. 

To be sure there is one preacher of dis- 
tinguished eminence, the late Dr Blair, 
whose sermons have been greatly admired, 
and widely circulated. They are sensible 
and elegant ; very correct, and highly po- 
lished. They illustrate well many branches 
of human duty ; but at the same time they 
are cold and dry. The first volume is per- 
haps the best. The second is inflated, 



xxvi. 



probably from the success of the first. The 
last breathes a very religious spirit. 

Logan's sermons have had a considerable 
run. They have more warmth than Blair's, 
and more genius ; smell less of the lamp, 
and raise greater interest in the reader. 
Yet they are very imperfect, and it is a pity 
that the author did not publish them him- 
self. "We consider the contrast between 
the spirit of religion, and the spirit of the 
world, as one of the best, though there are 
striking passages in them all. 

The late Dr Finlayson was an excellent 
preacher. We heard his stock of sermons, 
preached by himself two or three times, 
and think that a more interesting volume 
might have been published from his manu- 
scripts, than that which has been given to 
the world ; though about the half of those 
published are very superior ; especially those 
on the temptation of our Lord, liberty of 
the gospel, doubts about the truth of the 
gospel, and the immortality of the soul. 
The whole collection would have appear- 



xxvii. 



ed to more advantage, had titles been pre- 
fixed to each sermon. 

Farquhar's sermons are not be passed 
by without notice in this sketch* We re- 
collect of reading his sermons the first 
time, with a delight bordering on enthu- 
siasm. They discover a cultivated mind 
and a feeling heart ; much rational piety, 
and becoming zeal for the eternal interests 
of men. He died very young, and Drs 
Campbell and Gerard were his editors. 
We know of no posthumous volume, af- 
fording so favourable a specimen of pulpit 
eloquence. His sermon on the conduct 
of our Lord in the garden of Gethsemane 
is one of the best. 

Carr also deserves mention as a good 
writer of sermons ; for though an English- 
man by birth, and an Episcopalian in re- 
ligion ; yet his sermons were all preached 
in Scotland. They are short, vigorous, im- 
portant, and useful. They have had great 
success, and deserve to be successful. 



xxviii. 



There are other tolerable writers of ser- 
mons in Scotland. Leechman leaves the 
impression of his own excellent character 
upon the attentive reader. Craig displays 
good sense and talents for writing. Camp- 
bell discovers profound views, and excel- 
lent judgment. Gerard is not very invit- 
ing, though readable. 

Such are our ideas of some of the best 
sermons, which have been given to the 
world. The ideas of others may be dif- 
ferent, and we have no right to question 
their judgment or taste. As all have their 
own opinions about the sermons delivered 
from the pulpit, so we may be sure that the 
case w ill be the same, when they issue from 
the press. 

The discourses from the pulpit, which 
we have now taken the liberty to criticise, 
may expose the following volume to mor- 
tifying comparison, as well as severe cen- 
sure. He would need to excel himself, 
who presumes to judge of the excellencies 
and defects of those, whom the world al- 



xxix. 



lows to be the best models, and in imita- 
tion of whom he undertakes to write. 

The author indeed wishes to copy after 
the best models, though he does not pre- 
sume to rival them. He rather means to 
shew his zeal in that cause, which they have 
so nobly supported, and do what good he 
can, however limited may be his share of 
talent or influence. 

The volume, such as it is, is a specimen 
of those discourses, which he has been ac- 
customed for the last ten years, to deliver 
to a country congregation, consisting for 
the most part of farmers and labourers. 
Such persons do not commonly belong to 
the reading part of the community ; but 
if any of them look into this volume, they 
may have the satisfaction of perusing at 
their own fire side, what they heard deli- 
vered from the pulpit. 

The world at large may be so occupied 
with its own concerns, as to find no leisure 
to look into a small work, intended for ge- 
neral use ; but if any persons, not connect- 



XXX. 



ed with the parish of Corstorphine, look 
into it, the author trusts they will find 
the topics handled, agreeable to scripture 
and reason, and in some measure calculat- 
ed to confirm the faith, and direct the prac- 
tice of those, who value religion, and ho- 
nour morality. 



DISCOURSE I 



ON THE TOLERATION OF OPINIONS 
IN RELIGION. 

Rom. xv. 1. 

We that are strong ought to bear the infir- 
mities of the weak, and not please our- 
selves. 

In the time of the apostle Paul, many of 
those converted from judaism to Christi- 
anity, not being sufficiently instructed in 
that religion which they had embraced, 
scrupled to eat of certain meats, of which 
the Gentiles partook, and after the Jewish 
manner observed a distinction of days. 

It is reasonable to think that these per- 
sons acted with sincerity, and therefore the 
apostle, in the charity of that religion 
which he taught, tells the christians at 
Rome, who seem to have been better in- 



A 



% 

formed in their duty, and whose prejudices 
were not so great, to avoid all disputes 
with them about these points, and, while 
strong themselves, to bear the infirmities 
of the weak. 

In our age, though there may be no 
difference among christians about meats, 
and very little about days ; yet they some- 
times differ about matters in religion 
equally unimportant. These may be class- 
ed under two heads, opinions and ob- 
servances, certain peculiarities of thought 
and conduct, which distinguish any sect or 
individual. 

When christians differ from one another 
in articles of faith and forms of practice, 
it is to be hoped that they act from con- 
science, or what they judge to be right ; 
and though it may be our duty to coun- 
sel them, when we judge them to be wrong ; 
yet, if we cannot convince them, we ought 
to bear with them. 

It is more than probable, indeed, that we 
cannot do otherwise, even in matters essen- 
tial, and quite certain to unprejudiced 
minds ; but particularly we ought to do so 
in all points confessedly doubtful or indif- 
ferent. 



8 

In order to incite you to a tolerating 
spirit towards those who differ from you 
in religious opinions and observances, we 
shall, in this and the following discourse, 
point out the grounds on which such a 
spirit rests, and the obligations which we 
are under to exercise it. 

The first head of discourse then will be, 
to explain the foundation and duty of a 
tolerating spirit in religious opinions. 

The foundation of this spirit is laid in 
the right which every man has to judge 
for himself, a right arising from his ration- 
al nature, and of which he cannot be de- 
prived, without ceasing to be a rational 
being. From the frame of his mind, he 
is capable of judging betwixt truth and 
falsehood ; and does so judge in every case, 
engaging his attention. 

While the mind of man is thus con- 
structed, he cannot be forced into the be- 
lief of any notion at random. That mo- 
ment in which he is forced into it, he gives 
up his right of judging for himself. He has 
no opinion of his own, but is guided mere- 
ly at the will of another. 

He may no doubt take up an opinion 
on the authority of another, though no 

2 



4 



evidence of its truth is produced ; but he 
does so on the assurance of his probity, 
superior talents, or means of information, 
which are kinds of proof, and in common 
cases regulate the opinions of the bulk of 
mankind. 

In religion, however, opinions interest us 
more nearly, and our own act is more im- 
mediately required in believing them. We 
must be convinced of them, not on mere 
hearsay evidence, but the evidence of our 
own judgments. We must discern their 
very truth, and be certain that we are not 
deceived. 

If an article of faith is not evident at 
first sight, the right method of securing 
its belief, is to state clearly and forcibly 
the arguments by which it is supported ; 
and, if it be comprehensible; just reasoning 
will bring to the knowledge of it, and true 
eloquence will recommend it. What was 
dark at first will gradually clear up ; and 
at last, by accurate illustrations, it will 
stand forth in its own size and character. 

In disseminating opinions, persecution 
may be resorted to, but it cannot have the 
same force as argumentation. Argumenta- 
tion treats men as thinkingand accountable 



5 



beings, but persecution offers an insult to 
the understanding, and lays a snare for the 
heart. Instead of convincing, it alienates 
and terrifies. Instead of gaining converts, 
it makes martyrs and hypocrites. 

When an opinion is proposed to us, it is 
matter of choice, whether we shall em- 
brace it, and the soul spurns at all violence 
in this case. Feeling that it ought to be 
free in judging, it disdains all encroach- 
ments on this right. It may suffer, but as 
long as it preserves its strength, it cannot 
be subdued. 

To this strength of mind a sense of in- 
tegrity joins its power. No person, who 
has any honour or honesty, whatever evils 
may threaten him, will embrace an opinion, 
which he knows to be false, or about the 
truth of which he is uncertain. Through 
weakness or cowardice he may seem to do 
so, but will any one take the effect of fear, 
for the consent of the understanding, or the 
artifice of temporising, for sober convic- 
tion? 

Besides all of us, who name the name of 
Christ, are persuaded, that our welfare 
in a future state is peculiarly concerned 
in the sincerity with which we act here. 



6 



It will not be so much on the opinion in 
religion which we adopt, as the sincerity 
with which we adopt it, that our happiness 
in futurity will depend. From the con- 
struction of the mind itself, the man- 
ner in which objects are represented to it, 
and its habits and its prepossessions, it 
is impossible that all men should think 
alike ; but, whatever be their thoughts on 
any subject in religion, it is indispensably 
necessary that they should be sincere, and 
no man can look up with any confidence 
to God, as a candidate for immortality, if 
there is not truth in the inward parts. 

Nor has God been a hard master in this 
case, though man often would. The great 
truths of religion are plain and easy to be 
understood ; and if some of less magnitude 
be more difficult to comprehend, doubts 
about these will not debar from heaven. 
Opinions in religion, abstracted from their 
effects, can have no moral value in the 
sight of God ; and if they should be wrong, 
allowances will doubtless be made on the 
great day of accounts. Vice only excludes 
from the region of happiness, and opinion 
no farther excludes than it tends to pro- 



7 



duce vice. With man it may be an ob- 
struction, but with God it will not. 

But whatever may be the effect of reli- 
gious opinions on our happiness hereafter, 
as long as they are not hurtful to general 
happiness here, they ought not to be re- 
strained. When they tend to subvert 
public order, undermine civil establish- 
ments, or disturb the peace of society, the 
persons who entertain them are punish- 
able, and the magistrate is justified in 
using the power with which he is entrust- 
ed. 

But while the magistrate thus checks opi- 
nions, he checks them as dangerous to 
the country, not as false in religion. He 
is the guardian of the temporal welfare of 
men, but farther his care does not extend. 
The care of their spiritual welfare belongs 
to another class of persons, and they are 
to see, whether or not they be sound in the 
faith. 

But here great discretion is necessary. 
For the opinions in religion which we en- 
tertain, we are answerable to God, and eccle- 
siastics may counsel, but they are not to con- 
strain. W hen they go farther than admoni- 
tion, putting in remembrance, and expos- 



8 



tulation; this question may properly be 
asked, Who art thou that judgest an- 
other man's servant ? To his own master 
he stands or falls* You are delegates 
from God to men, but beware that you do 
not exceed your commission. What God 
has enjoined freely declare ; but who shall 
pretend on his own authority to deliver 
what opinions shall recommend to his fa- 
vour ? Who shall be so bold as to say, that 
he will accept this or reject that opinion, 
without producing a proof of his asser- 
tion ? 

Strange as it may appear, some have 
actually made this assertion. The Pope 
of Rome and his adherents, some cen- 
turies ago, drew up a set of opinions, many 
of which are not to be found in scripture, 
and ordered all men to believe them. Nay, 
putting themselves in the seat of God, they 
arrogantly condemned to eternal punish- 
ment all those who ventured to use their 
christian liberty in disbelieving them. 

Their spiritual dominion, in this coun- 
try at least, is now at an end, and we are in 



* Rom. xiv. 4. 



9 



no terror of the church of Rome and her 
supporters ; though we should deny tran- 
substantiation, or purgatory; prayers for 
the dead, or indulgences ; but the time was, 
when the denial of these, and such like 
doctrines, would not only have deprived a 
man of fortune and character, but even 
brought him to the stake. The mem- 
bers of that church have long been famed 
for burning heretics, and slaughtering 
innocent men in cold blood ; a barba- 
rity that flees in the face of every precept 
of the New Testament, and those, that are 
capable of or encourage it, have not 
the most distant resemblance to Jesus 
Christ, or his apostles ; whatever they 
may have to the followers of Mahomet, 
or the votaries of Brahma. 

Infallibility of judgment in religious 
matters can never dwell in fallible men. 
Freedom from error in all that they believe, 
is not to be expected from any body of 
christians, by whatever name they may 
be called. Never have these agreed in 
all points of religious doctrine, be they 
Greeks, Catholics, or Protestants, and 
never will they agree to the end of time. 
You may as soon expect that their faces 



10 



should be perfectly alike, that they should 
be exactly of the same stature, and live to 
the very same age. 

God only can prescribe opinions in re- 
ligion, which are perfectly certain. He 
only is infallible in judgment, and what- 
ever he says must be true. He is incapable 
of uttering a falsehood, and cannot be 
deceived. All things are naked to his 
eye, and he knows all things without 
proof. 

As God only can teach opinions in re- 
ligion, which are perfectly certain ; so he 
has given a system of these in the scrip- 
tures of the Old and New Testaments. 
Here are contained all points of belief, 
necessary for salvation ; and being trans- 
lated into a language, which we under- 
stand and speak, we cannot be excused, if 
we be ignorant and unbelieving. 

All opinions in religion, which men 
broach and support, are to be judged of by 
scripture. This is the rule of faith, and if 
we be guided by this rule, we will be in no 
danger of forming false opinions, or being 
seduced by those who have formed them. 
The position of the prophet will be daily 
in our remembrance^ To the law and to 



11 



the testimony, if they speak not according to 
this word, it is because there is no light in 
them* 

Pious and judicious christians, under 
the name of creeds, have sometimes col- 
lected the most essential doctrines taught 
in scripture. These are useful compila- 
tions, as they comprehend in a few words 
all those truths which christians profess 
to believe ; and those, whose avocations or 
ignorance hinder them from sufficiently 
consulting their bibles, may thus become 
acquainted with the great outlines of be- 
lief. Even those, who have more leisure 
and knowledge, may thus see at a single 
glance the very marrow of revealed reli- 
gion. 

Creeds, however, can never supercede 
the necessity of reading the sacred oracles. 
The most perfect of them are but a 
bare skeleton of the great body of scrip- 
ture. All, that have ever been written, 
contain doubtful or comparatively insig- 
nificant points. That known by the 
name of the apostle's creed, (not that it is 



* Isa. viii. 20. 



12 



the work of the apostles, but contains a 
summary of those doctrines which they 
were supposed to teach,) is of very high 
antiquity, and as far as we can judge, con- 
sonant to scripture ; yet in this, and the 
same may be said of every one, things are 
delivered as essential to salvation, which 
on no account can be reckoned such. In 
the idea of those who composed this creed, 
Christ is said to have descended into hell, 
or the infernal regions, which is not 
truth ; the phrase meaning no more than 
that he was laid in the grave, though that 
was not understood to be its meaning, till 
the 16th century, 12 or 14 centuries per- 
haps after the apostles' creed was compos- 
ed* 

Confessions of faith are to be received 
with the same reference to scripture as 
creeds, They are a declaration to the 
world of those religious doctrines which any 
body of christians hold to be true ; and are 
a pledge to the state of the soundness and 
peaceableness of their principles. 



* Hugh Broughton, who flourished in the reigns of Elizabeth, and 
James the First, and was famous for his knowledge of Greek and Hebrew, 
first proposed this interpretation. He was opposed by much abler men, 
but posterity have judged them to be in, the wrong. 



IS 



Confessions, when composed with judg- 
ment, may assist the mind in acquiring 
an enlarged knowledge of religious truths. 
Few have the leisure, inclination, abili- 
ty, or patience necessary for understand- 
ing religious doctrines, arranging them 
in a luminous and interesting light, or 
tracing them to their just and necessary 
consequences ; and confessions may be use- 
ful in abridging our labours in this respect, 
and even suggest hints, which our saga- 
city and diligence may improve. 

If, however, confessions at any time be 
the refinements of men, rather than the 
declaration of scripture ; if they be the 
distinguishing tenets of a party, rather 
than the genuine doctrines of Christ, they 
will be apt to mislead ; and even if they 
should be free from gross errors, it should 
always be remembered that they are the 
performances of fallible men, and that a ta- 
cit reliance cannot be laid upon them, in- 
dependent of scripture. In their most 
finished state, they savour more or less of 
the views of those that composed them, 
and receive a tinge from the temper of the 
times in which they were written. 



14 



All human compositions, discussing mat- 
ters of faith, whatever be their excellence, 
are to be received with caution. The 
writings of the Old and New Testament 
only are the rule of faith; and not the 
comments which men of learning and 
ability make upon them. Their expla- 
nations may deserve our most serious consi- 
deration, but in judging of matters of faith, 
we must be guided by reason, and not 
great names. In all matters pertaining 
to salvation, men ought to believe not 
by authority, but conviction. Much de- 
ference is due to superior talents, and 
the voice of multitudes is not rashly to be 
rejected ; but no man is obliged to blind- 
fold his own eyes in judging of truth, or 
be implicitly led by every pretender to 
superior knowledge. Whenever any man 
recommends to us an opinion, under the 
clock of scripture, we are always to see 
whether scripture sanctions it or not. 

If this freedom of judging in religious 
opinions is not tolerated, a door is opened 
to persecution, a scourge to which christi- 
ans in all ages have been too ready to re- 
sort. Those who have had the civil power 
on their side, out of their zeal to propagate 



15 



their own opinions, no matter whether 
they were countenanced by scripture ; 
have sometimes stirred it up against those 
who could not subscribe to these opinions, 
however inoffensive might be their con- 
duct ; and not only very uncharitably con- 
demned them to everlasting punishment in 
the next world, but added the miseries of 
the present ; depriving them of liberty and 
property, and taking away their lives in the 
cruellest manner. 

In the enlightened times in which we 
live, forcing religious opinions upon men 
will scarcely be carried to such ex- 
tremes. Some amongst us of a peculiar 
way of thinking may be under political dis- 
abilities ; but these can hardly be reckon- 
ed hardships to those who are sincere in 
their opinions. The theory of toleration 
is now well understood, though there may 
be a disposition to intolerance in some, 
more zealous than wise, and as much dis- 
tinguished for bad hearts as weak under- 
standings. 

Now, what plea can any man urge for 
such a disposition ? Though he may be 
strongly convinced of the truth of his own 
opinions, ought he on that account to har- 



16 



rass his neighbour, or rob him of his peace 
and his happiness ? He may perhaps pre- 
tend the love of souls and obedience to 
God ; but to injure any one in his person 
property or fame, because he happens to 
differ from us in some abstract and ill de- 
fined speculation in religion ; is an in- 
stance of the greatest enmity to him, as 
well as a direct disobedience to God, who 
commands us to bear with a brother in all 
things doubtful and indifferent. What 
a man believes in such a case is betwixt 
God and his conscience ; and none can 
be more interested in the truth of his opi- 
nion than himself, as he must be ac- 
countable for it, but what right have we 
to interfere ? Because we imagine that 
he will be miserable in the next world, are 
we therefore to make him miserable in 
this ? Supposing him to be wrong, who 
can tell the many opportunities which he 
may have of being better informed before 
he die, if we would not rivet him in his 
errors, by our ill-timed opposition ; or de- 
prive him of those opportunities, by put- 
ting him to death ? 

The present state is mercifully intend- 
ed as a school of discipline, not only in re- 



gard to practice but also opinion : and 
while we claim a right to think for our- 
selves, why should we deny the same right 
to others ? If we neglect the moral quali- 
fications of our neighbours, which, by the 
provisions of the gospel, are the chief pass- 
port to the kingdom of heaven ; why 
should we make our own opinions, which 
every one cannot embrace, and which, it 
may be supposed, are often questionable in 
themselves, the only recommendation to a 
place in that happy country ? Intemperate 
zeal, when not guided by knowledge, we 
may be assured, is any thing but the in- 
spiration of God. No person, whatever be 
his office or talents, can justly infringe on 
the right of christians, in judging of what 
is true or false in religion. This province, 
whatever be our wish to extend the,empire 
of our opinions, ought to remain free and 
untouched. Amidst the rage of prosyli- 
tism, we should not forget that it is an in- 
dispensable duty to be animated with a 
spirit of christian love. If we implicitly 
follow blind zeal in a case of this kind, we 
may lose the dispositions included in chris- 
tian love altogether. Have we not seen 
men, not only harbouring the most ranco- 



B 



18 



rous hatred toward those that differed 
from them, but uttering the most violent 
invectives, and even proceeding to the 
most lawless excess, putting their lives 
in danger, destroying their effects, burn- 
ing their houses, and such like out- 
rages ? 

This conduct, brethren, is not authorised 
by the gospel. Christianity is ever de- 
scribed as a message of peace to men. Its 
teachers are characterised as ambassadors 
of peace, and its votaries are required to 
live in peace. 

This peaceableness of our religion is sup- 
ported by the example of its Founder. No 
violence was ever used by our Saviour 
in making converts. In propagating his 
doctrines, he did not rule over the con- 
sciences of men with a high hand, but 
subdued their hearts by humanity and 
kindness. It was not by compulsion 
that he got followers, but affability and 
gentleness. Had he been disposed to com- 
pel men to come into his measures, he 
would not have used every honourable art 
to persuade them. He would not have la- 
boured continually in the work of instruc- 
tion. He would not have expostulated at 



19 



one time, and spoken parables at an- 
other. He would not have wrought mi- 
racles, or uttered prophecies. He would 
have darted light into their understand- 
ings in an instant, and irresistably con- 
trouled their wills. Whenever he opened 
his mouth, they would all have become be- 
lievers of necessity ; or rather, he would 
not have come from heaven at all, as all 
these changes might have been produced 
without visible means. 

There is no need, however, to push 
the absurdity so far. Whoever looks into 
the gospels will evidently perceive, that 
the conduct of Jesus, as a setter up of new 
opinions, was very different. He address- 
ed men as reasonable beings, and appealed 
to their own sense of things in what he 
taught. In all his harangues, he supposes 
that they were to use their own judg- 
ments ; and while he warns them to be- 
ware of false prophets, he does not insinu- 
ate that they were to hood- wink their un- 
derstandings in adhering to him. 

This spirit is copied after by his apostles. 
They every where allow the use of reason 
and preach up toleration. They every 
where recommend inquiry, and insist on 



2 



20 



candour and equity in judging of men's 
opinions. Without such virtues brother- 
ly love, so much recommended by the gos- 
pel, could never take root and flourish. 

In one word, the voice of reason, the 
doctrines of scripture, and the example of 
Christ and his apostles plead for a tolerant 
spirit in religious opinions. Neither the 
ecclesiastical nor the civil power has any 
thing to do with religious opinions, merely 
speculative, when they do not affect mo- 
rals or public tranquillity. In adopting 
these, we ought to be influenced neither 
by talent nor rank, but guided entirely by 
our own judgments ; taking care, that the 
word of God and common sense of man- 
kind are not against us. 



DISCOURSE II. 



ON THE TOLERATION OF OBSERVANCES 
IN RELIGION. 

Rom. xv. 1. 

We that are strong ought to bear the infir- 
mities of the weak, and n ot please our- 
selves. 

In the foregoing discourse upon these 
words, I was at considerable pains to shew 
the reasonableness and propriety of a toler- 
ating spirit in religious opinions; that every 
man had a right of judging for himself; that 
he could not be forced to believe at random ; 
that no happiness hereafter could be ex- 
pected from any opinion without a sincere 
conviction of its truth ; that ecclesiastical 
formularies had a certain value, but the 
scriptures only were the rule of faith ; that 
the genius of Christianity, and the conduct 



22 



of Christ and his apostles, were in favour 
of that spirit which we recommended. 

These things we had considered, and 
cannot now farther detail, and therefore 
we proceed to shew the propriety and rea- 
sonableness of a tolerating spirit in religi- 
ous observances. 

All that we urged, about the reasonable- 
ness and propriety of a tolerating spirit 
in religious opinions, applies with equal 
force to religious observances. If the 
right of private judgment ought to be sa- 
cred in the one case, no less ought a 
man's sense of duty to be his guide in 
the other. No observance whatever can 
have any value, unless the mind completely 
goes along with it. 

In all such cases conscience is the guide 
of conduct, and it is invested with autho- 
rity to enforce its dictates. No man can 
be satisfied with himself, if he neglect or 
contemn its suggestions. Even those, to 
whose lawless violence and detestable ty- 
ranny he is sometimes led to sacrifice his 
conscience, look upon him in no other light 
than a mere machine. As to God, he can 
never hope for his favour, or the rewards 
of immortality, if he disobey his conscience, 



23 



however erroneous. He sins greatly, when 
he opposes its authority, however misguid- 
ed. If any man, says the apostle, think 
the eating of certain meats sinful, which 
others reckon lawful, he is damned if he 
eat* 

As God has thus sanctioned the autho- 
rity of conscience, our business is to see 
that it be well informed. It will occasion 
much trouble and misery, if we follow a 
blind guide. The lights of reason and 
scripture must shine before us, when urged 
to observances, about which men are di- 
vided. 

Most of those observances, which may 
be called religious, are completely indiffer- 
ent, and it can seldom be of any moment, 
whether they be greatly attended to or 
not. We may give them our countenance, 
to please others ; but in other respects we 
are not to be blamed, if we disregard them. 

Religious observances are never essen- 
tial, except when enjoined by God. To 
the Jews the ceremonies of Moses were of 
this kind, because God had enjoined them; 



* Rom, xiii. 32- 



24 



but in all other cases they are completely 
indifferent. 

The cause of this indifference may be 
easily imagined. They are not disposi- 
tions of mind, but bodily acts ; and they 
are valuable only, as they stir up and cher- 
ish these dispositions. 

No doubt they sometimes do so, but 
every one knows well, that very often they 
become mechanical. We acquire a facility 
of doing them from habit, while we suffer 
the dispositions suited to them to fall 
asleep. 

But, indifferent as such observances 
may be, men often make a greater noise 
about them than "'religious opinions. To, 
them they grow more attached, than any 
other thing; and to give up any of 
them, they have often thought the same 
as giving up religion itself. The fact 
itself will certainly not be difficult to 
prove, and an instance or two will fix it 
more deeply in the mind. 

It is well known to all the readers of the 
bible, how enslaved the Jews were to the 
ceremonies of Moses. They considered 
them as of the last importance, and they 

; 



25 



would sooner have violated all the ten 
commandments, than omitted one of them. 

After Christianity was published, they 
had certainly become indifferent, though 
the Jews did not think so ; and as they 
were instituted by God, and binding upon 
them for a time, their opinion in this case 
was somewhat excuseable, though they 
were highly to be blamed for not knowing 
the signs of the times. 

Even those of them, who had embraced 
Christianity, could not cast off their attach- 
ment to their ancient forms. They were 
for making a compromise betwixt Moses 
and Christ, and forcing circumcision, days, 
meats, and drinks, on the christian con- 
verts. The simplicity of the gospel could 
not satisfy them. Worshipping God in 
spirit and in truth was too refined for their 
gross understandings. 

Hence a controversy arose, which agi- 
tated the whole body of christians in those 
days ; and so important did it seem, that 
the apostles were solemnly convened to 
consider it ; and at this first assembly of 
the church James the less presided, and so 
great was his weight, that the sentence of 
the court was almost conceived in his 



26 



very words, the substance of which was, 
that the gentile converts to Christianity 
were not to be burdened with the cere- 
monies of Moses, 

Another instance of the importance, in 
which observances are held by mankind, 
may be fetched from the times of popery. 
The Catholics, during the middle ages, had 
greatly degenerated from the purity of 
ancient times, and, completely neglecting 
the moral law, had made the whole of re- 
ligion to consist in empty show and idle 
pomp. Carrying the image of Saint Janu- 
arius through the streets, and similiar exhi- 
bitions of the other saints, were to them of 
far more consequence than justice, mercy, 
or faith. 

The grossness and corruption of these 
times were truly deplorable. All religion 
had dwindled into a mere farago of child- 
ish and unmeaning forms. It would have 
been well, if they had been borrowed from 
the decent ceremonies of Moses ; but 
they did not drink their waters from 
so pure a source. There was not a pollut- 
ed fountain of pagan superstition, from 
which they did not draw some of their 
silly, absurd, and vicious observances, 



27 



To these, however, they were not the 
less devoted. To have failed in any one 
of these, would have been, as they thought, 
a monstrous defect ; but to fail in piety 
and virtue excited no regret. This was a 
light affair in their estimation, but the 
other was of very serious and deep consi- 
deration. 

We shall mention one instance more, 
in which an undue value was given to forms 
in religion; though, to mention all the 
instances, in which their value was over-rat- 
ed, would be to give a history of almost all 
the religions that ever were in the world. 

During the reformation, men in this 
matter ran into two extremes. Some were 
loath to give up the formalities of popery ; 
while others so much hated every thing 
popish, that for the most arrant trifles, which 
were not worth the contending for, they 
raised disturbances and factions in the 
church. Hence the reformers in England 
became divided into two parties, those that 
were for retaining the innocent popish cere- 
monies, as they were called ; and those 
that were for renouncing them, how- 
ever innocent others might think them. 
These latter were called Puritans, and com- 



28 



prehended all the more zealous reformers. 
The former had the government on their 
side, and supported their views by the very 
same instruments, by which the heathens 
endeavoured to root out Christianity. The 
latter, however, when they got the power 
into their hands, were as unreasonable and 
oppressive. 

The whole ground of dispute betwixt 
these two parties were observances of no 
great moment. Whether they were retain- 
ed or rejected, was really of little concern. 
They were matters of mere indifference to 
all impartial minds. 

Seldom, however, are men able to judge 
impartially in these matters. It is so a- 
mong heathens as well as christians. All 
men, whenever religion is concerned, are 
accustomed to attach to mere trifles the 
utmost importance ; however lax they may 
be in what is of real moment, — the love of 
God, and the practise of righteousness. 

Now, while men attach such importance 
to religious observances, it is no wonder 
that they should sometimes place all reli- 
gion in them ; that they should look only 
to the form, while they forget altogether 



29 



the spirit ; that they should reckon exact- 
ness in some petty observances every excel- 
lence, every desirable attainment, every re- 
quisite for eternal life. 

With such ideas as these, they will ap- 
pear to themselves perfectly justified, in 
forcing their observances upon others, and 
if others should refuse them, as is not im- 
probable, they will think that they are 
doing God's work in persecuting them. 

It is very hard to be subjected to 
the capricious violence of these men, 
but this is a species of trial to which we 
are exposed for the sake of a good con- 
science. We must obey God rather than 
men, when the duty to either interferes ; 
and if we should suffer, our lot is not worse 
than that of the apostles and martyrs. 

Those that persecute, however, what- 
ever zeal they pretend, shew no wisdom. 
They discover cruelty of temper, but a 
total want of christian charity. They prove 
that religion, about the propagation of 
which they are so outrageous, is really a 
stranger to their hearts. 

In all the observances attached to our 
religion, men have varied, and will vary. 
One may think himself bound to read a 



so 



written prayer, another to use an unpre- 
meditated prayer; one to sing psalms 
standing, another to sing psalms sitting ; 
one may contend for baptising children, 
another may be as eager for baptising 
adults ; one may believe that he is called 
upon to take the Lord's Supper every Sab- 
bath, a second, that once in the year is suf- 
ficient ; and a third, that it was never in- 
tended to be taken beyond the age of the 
apostles. 

The reason of all this difference among 
christians is, that no one of these and a 
hundred like things, are prescribed in scrip- 
ture ; but left to human discretion. Many 
of them may depend on political wisdom, 
local convenience, the will of the individual, 
or the dictates of private conscience. Con- 
science may be mistaken, but in all religious 
observances, when we have not express reve- 
lation to direct us, no other guide can be 
trusted. In vain shall we use any custom, 
if this inward monitor condemn us. No 
form of religion can be acceptable to God, 
of the lawfulness of which we are not per- 
suaded. No happiness hereafter can be 
expected, if we act contrary to the light of 
our own minds. 



31 



We may pay great deference to wise and 
pious men in these matters, but they have 
no right to compel. They may recommend, 
but they cannot force. They may argue, 
but it will depend on the strength of their 
arguments, if they convince. 

We are not to be deceived with the 
pomp of the office which they hold. 
Whether ministers or magistrates, they 
are just as ready to be mistaken as we. 
They may frighten us with threats, or pu- 
nish us when we disobey ; but we are not 
to fear those that can kill the body, hut 
those that can kill both body and soul* 

Force may make conformists in religion, 
but it will never make honest men. I can- 
not wisely go into any measure, of the pro- 
priety of which I am not assured. If I 
do wrong, I myself must be answerable for 
the wrong, and not others. At least their 
being punished on that account, will not 
excuse me. 

If it had been the will of God, that all 
men should observe the same religious 
forms, he would have laid it down in his 



* Matth. x. 28. 



32 



word ; but, if he has not thought fit to do 
so, no person upon earth, contrary to my 
sense of duty, has a right to insist upon 
such an observance. 

Every society has certain laws to which 
all the members agree ; and others may 
be admitted into it, if they choose to sub- 
mit to these laws. Nay, it can make new 
laws, if the management of its affairs re- 
quire it. 

Every church has a similar power. Like 
every other society, she can punish her 
members, when they do not observe 
her rules ; but her punishing can extend 
no farther than expulsion. The coming 
of any one into her is voluntary, his stay 
is voluntary, and his departure is volun- 
tary, 

If freedom of this kind were not per- 
mitted, the invitations of the gospel, or 
any church prefessing it, would be nuga- 
tory. Every man would be obliged to ad- 
here to those forms, to which his fathers 
before him adhered? however much he 
might be convinced in his own mind of 
their unlawfulness. The habits induced 
by education, and not conscience, would be 
the rule by which he was to walk, than 



S3 



which there cannot be a rule in morals 
more arbitrary and dangerous. 

Whenever any one upon good grounds 
thinks those things, which others observe, 
hurtful to his eternal welfare, he is called 
upon by every consideration to give them 
up. None can hinder him from so doing, 
without offering an insult to the judge of 
conduct in his own breast. This ought by 
no means to be disregarded, and far less 
ought his person or effects to be touch- 
ed. By the course taken he has done no 
injury to the state, or broken any of its 
laws ; and therefore with no justice can 
the arm of the civil power be lifted up a- 
gainst him. 

Whatever religious rite may be current 
in the world, or the neighbourhood ; we 
should bear w ith a brother, if he values it 
more highly than we. No wise man will 
ever contend about these things. He will 
always yield a little in cases of indifference, 
and allow a brother or a neighbour his 
own way. 

In all religious cases, indeed, we must be 
completely satisfied of the truth of any 
opinion, and the propriety of any practice. 
If reason and conscience tell us that we 



c 



34 



are right, all the world ought not to per- 
suade us that we are wrong. The judg- 
ments which we form may be erroneous ; 
but we can never be excused, if we act con- 
trary to conviction. We can never be jus- 
tified in any observances in religion, which 
have no more than custom or example to 
recommend them. They may be good, 
but their goodness must be placed in con- 
formity to the law of God, and not in cus- 
tom or example. 

From the observations, then, which have 
been made, it is plain, that freedom of opi- 
nion and liberty of conscience ought not 
only to be indulged, but every where in- 
culcated. Ecclesiastical and civil rulers, 
and private christians, as far as their influ- 
ence reaches, ought to promote the great 
duty of mutual forbearance, in all things 
belonging to religious belief and practice. 
We are all fallible creatures, and ought to 
live in unity of heart, if we cannot live in 
unity of sentiment and conduct. 

This is the most desirable condition in 
which christians can be placed. Where- 
ever such a spirit is cherished, peace 
and concord must prevail. We will be 
united in affection, as far as religion is con- 



35 



cerned, however much we may be divided 
in opinion or practice. Let the one or 
the other be ever so various, we will act 
from the same motives, the glory of God, 
and the good of men. Not the belief of 
any set of opinions, nor the observance of 
any sort of forms, in which men may lau- 
dably differ, will so much be our aim, 
as the flourishing of true charity, which 
the apostle tells us is the end of the com- 
mandment* 

What a blessing would it be, if there 
were infused into the breasts of all men 
this most important branch of christian 
love, mutual forbearance both in religious 
opinions and practices. This is the com- 
mandment of Christ. This is the injunc- 
tion of his apostles. This is a most becom- 
ing temper in him, who would seek for 
the favour of God, or aspire after the hap- 
piness of heaven. 

We ought always to consider, that in 
these cases we are not selfishly to please 
ourselves. We are not to make our own 
humour or power the end of our actions. 
We are never to act, as if there were no 



i. Tim. i. 5. 

3 



36 



other beings in the world but ourselves, 
whose feelings were to be consulted. If 
we be actuated by such a spirit, we may 
be certain, that it is not countenanced by 
Christianity, its founder, his apostles, or 
other followers. 

If, therefore, we have more light and less 
prejudice, let us put up with those, whose 
minds are more dark, and whose hearts more 
illiberal. In conformity with the admoni- 
tion of the text, in all these matters let 
us that are strong, bear the infirmities of the 
weak, and not please our selves. % 



• If the reader wishes a fuller account of Toleration, he may peruse 
Locke's immortal Treatise on the subject ; or if he wishes an elaborate 
defence of Intolerance, he may consult Samuel Rutherford's Free Dispu- 
tation against pretended Liberty of Conscience, etc. 4to. 1G4S). , 



DISCOURSE III 



ON THE PROOF OF A GOD FROM THE 
MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 

Rom. 1. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the 
creation of the world are clearly seen,, 
being understood by the things that are 
7nade, even his eternal power and god- 
head ; so that they are without excuse. 

An enlightened attention to the things 
around us is of vast importance in a religi- 
ous view. It lays before us the great fa- 
bric of nature, and enables us to survey 
her workmanship with the purest delight. 
It leads us through all the connections of 
things addressing our senses, and raises 
our thoughts to the eternal fountain of be- 
ing. 



38 



There have been few men, who, on prin- 
ciples of reason, have thought that there 
was no God. A single instance or two 
have been mentioned ; but, in the judg-? 
ment of mankind, such persons have either 
been insane, or at least more ambitious of 
maintaining paradoxes than judicious and 
sober opinions. 

The practical atheist, or he who acts as 
if there was no God, is almost the only one 
that can be supposed to exist ; and of this 
sort of men there is great plenty in the 
world. There are thousands who enter- 
tain no doubt of the being of a God, when- 
ever they apply their thoughts to the sub- 
ject ; and yet conduct themselves through 
life, as if there was none. . 

The unreasonableness of such conduct 
might well deserve to be shown at great 
length; but at present we shall confine 
ourselves to the grounds, on which the 
belief of a God is founded. On these we 
do not intend to be very large, however 
copious the subject may be ; but only to 
mention very cursorily those views which 
seem to be the most striking and useful. 

There are two ways by which the being 
of a God is proved. One is from the ab- 



39 



stract notions which we have of perfection, 
and the necessity of some independent ex- 
istance, from which all the appearances 
in the universe are derived. This way 
of proving the being of a God is con- 
sidered as too abstruse for the comprehen- 
sion of ordinary minds, and is chiefly used 
in order to combat the arguments of the 
speculative atheist. 

The other way, which is reckoned by 
far the most satisfactory, is when we prove 
the being of a god from the works of na- 
ture. These every where force themselves 
upon our notice ; and the proofs drawn 
from them are perfectly level to every ca- 
pacity, The orderly revolution of the 
heavenly bodies, the beauties of the vege- 
table and animal kingdoms, the sagacity, 
skill and contrivance of human beings, 
cannot escape the most indifferent obser- 
vation ; and he must shut his eyes against 
the light, who does not see and feel their 
evidence. 

In discoursing farther upon this sub- 
ject, we shall attempt to prove the be- 
ing of a God from the material universe, 
from vegetable, animal, and rational life, 
from the intellectual and moral nature of 



40 

man ; and, as a subsidiary argument, attend 
to the consent of mankind in believing a 
GocL 

First, The being of a God may be proved 
from the material universe. 

The heavens and the earth are open to 
every eye, and strike the attentive mind 
with astonishment and wonder. We seem 
placed on the surface of a great plain, with 
the magnificent arch of the heavens over 
our heads. This is traversed, during the 
day, by that glorious body the sun ; and, 
during the night, it is adorned by the 
moon and thousands of stars. These are 
the grandest appearances ever presented 
to the human eye. They resemble so many 
golden points in the roof of a great palace ; 
but philosophers, with great probability, 
have conjectured that they are worlds, and 
inhabited in the same manner as this earth. 
Their number is immense. Many, which 
are not visible to the naked eye, have been 
discovered by glasses ; and if we had better 
glasses, still more would be discovered. 
They are doubtless to be found, at proper 
distances, in every region of the universe ; 



41 



and to the universe imagination can set no 
bounds. 

Now what is of such magnitude, and 
every where furnished with systems or 
worlds, must be the work of some great 
and powerful being. No reasonable man 
can ever suppose that the universe made 
itself. Such an idea would imply that it 
existed, before it did exist ; than which, 
there cannot be a greater absurdity. We 
might say, indeed, that it was eternal ; but 
such an assertion is not easy to prove. Be- 
sides, it is contrary to the history of its 
birth, given by Moses, There we read, 
that God made the heavens and the earth 
in the space of six days, and pronounced 
them to be good ; and we gladly flee from 
the subtilities of philosophy, to shelter 
ourselves under the sober and credible 
account of holy writ. 

On this ground, then, we conclude, that 
the great and powerful being who made 
the material universe is God. He is that 
great cause, which had no beginning, and 
will have no end ; he who is independent 
of every thing, but on whom every thing 
depends. 



42 



But if the grandeur and magnificence of 
the universe lead to God, his existence is 
still farther confirmed by the subservien- 
cy of its parts to one another. 

The sun, the most glorious body which 
we behold, is also the most useful. He is 
the source of light and heat, and causes the 
agreeable changes of day and night, of sum- 
mer and winter, of seed time and harvest. 
He cherishes vegetation and animal life ; 
and is the principal mean of procuring us 
corn and wine, and every comfort and joy 
of the present state. When he sets in the 
west, most of the animals retire to rest, 
and are refreshed and recruited through 
the night. When he rises in the east, they 
wake from their slumbers, walk forth to 
open day, and sport or labour till the eve- 
ning. This alternation of darkness and of 
light ; of rest and of labour ; of forgetful- 
ness and enjoyment, never ceases. The 
benefit of it never fails. The sun is ever 
vigorous. 

Light, which flows incessantly from the 
sun, is one of the most wonderful things 
in nature ; but philosophers are not agreed, 
whether it is a distinct substance, or only 
a quality of body. Its laws have been am- 



43 



ply detailed, but its real nature is yet a 
profound secret. 

A ray of light, when not decomposed, is 
white, and that body on which it falls ap- 
pears white, when the whole ray is not ab- 
sorbed, but reflected. The cause of this 
reflection is not easy to determine, though 
probably it arises from the nature of the 
union, formed by the constituent parts of 
the body ; or of one of them diffused 
through the others. 

Light is ever accompanied with heat, 
and many have thought them the same 
substance. Certainly, the laws which they 
observe are often the same, and they seem 
to be universally diffused, though often 
in a latent state. What this expression 
means, is readily perceived by lighting a 
candle. By that action both light and 
heat are evolved, which were not sensible 
before. 

The electric fluid, or cause of thunder 
and lightning, has many similar qualities ; 
and when well understood, is found to be 
as universal and beneficial, demonstrat- 
ing the being of a God by its curious and 
wonderful properties. 



44 



Light and heat are connected with the 
sun, whatever may be the case with the 
electrical fluid. When he shines, nature 
rejoices. The glowing tints of the morn- 
ing and evening sky, and the varied hue 
of the firmament in a clear day ravish the 
heart. To every man of observation and 
feeling nature appears in the robe of beauty, 
in all the gracefulness of form. 

What a blessing to all the creatures of 
this earth is this visible sovereign of the 
universe ? If, after going down, he were 
not to rise, what mischief would follow ? 
All things would be buried in darkness, 
cold seize the limbs of every animal, and 
delight and satisfaction flee from the 
dwellings of men; the succession of day and 
night no more take place, and the seasons 
no more revolve ; no more be seen the 
blooming sweetness of spring, the full 
blown glories of summer, the yellow har- 
vests of autumn, or even the withered 
and decayed face of winter. 

The reverse of all this, however, is hap- 
pily the case ; and does not this prove that 
there is some great and benevolent being, 
who hath planted this wonderful luminary 
in the heavens, and ordered it to dispense 



45 



light and heat to mortals, and to revive 
and quicken all terrestrial existence ? 

These are blessings so great and so pow- 
erfully felt, that in ruder times, many have 
taken the sun for God ; and, certainly, if 
any thing in this visible universe can be 
taken for God, the sun out of all compa- 
rison is the most worthy of this honour. 
Such a great and powerful benefactor is he 
to this earth, and to every thing that lives 
upon its surface ; that paying homage to 
him is the most excuseable of all creature- 
worship. 

While we have so strongly adverted to 
the sun, we cannot pass by the moon, that 
other great light in the heavens, which is 
an object of the most delightful contem- 
plation to the inhabitants of this earth, 
and often occupies the thoughts of the most 
illiterate, as well as the most learned. The 
embellishments, which it gives to the poe- 
try of every nation, shews its power in 
this respect, 

Though it may be questioned, whether 
the moon communicates much heat, yet 
the lonely traveller and wandering sailor 
are cheered by its beams ; the one pursu- 
ing his way with much more comfort, and 



46 



the other coursing the vast ocean with 
exhilarated spirits. 

It exerts another influence, of a more 
obscure but highly beneficial nature. It 
causes the tides of the ocean, by which its 
salubrity is preserved, and the comfort of 
animal and vegetable nature consulted. 
It may even directly affect animals and ve- 
getables, as well as the motion of the earth 
itself, though these effects are not obvious. 

In the progress of the moon through 
the sky, she is accompanied with thou- 
sands of stars, not more beautiful to be- 
hold, than useful to other parts of creation ; 
certainly not objects of worship, but ser- 
vants of the great first cause. If at his 
appointment the sun rules the day, so 
does the moon and stars preside over 
the night ; — a display the most grand and 
interesting that can be conceived, and to 
which all other appearances are mean and 
insignificant. 

But not in the sun alone, the life and 
the soul of this world, nor in the moon 
his constant attendant in the heavens, 
are wisdom and design displayed; but 
even in that region of air which surrounds 
our globe. In this vegetables grow, and 



47 



animals breathe. From efforts to recover 
its equilibrium, which is constantly dis- 
turbed by heat, winds are produced, which 
cool, purify, and refresh. By its motions 
vapours, raised from the water and the 
land, are collected into clouds and rain, 
and scattered in showers upon the earth, 
so necessary to vegetable support and 
animal comfort. 

Water is a blessing inconceivably great, 
a truly excellent beverage, provided in 
great abundance, agreeing the best of all 
drinks with the animal frame, and from 
which seldom any danger can arise ; but, 
unless the atmosphere were constituted as 
it is, a constant supply of this best and 
safest of drinks could not be had, and con- 
sequently every vegetable and animal 
would perish. 

The land too, which forms one great con- 
stituent of this globe, is an excellent re- 
ceptacle for vegetables and animals. It 
is covered with a coat or bed of earth, 
formed from decayed vegetable and animal 
matter, intermixed with particles of sand 
and powder of stones ; and producing a 
rich profusion of trees and herbs for the 
use of man and beast. It is diversified 



48 



with hills and valleys ; affording the most 
beautiful prospects, and the most delight- 
ful habitations. The hills break the cur- 
rent of air, and shelter from the blast ; at- 
tract the clouds, and receive frequent rains ; 
which feed the springs above, and water 
the plains below. The valleys are inter- 
sected with brooks, which furnish moisture 
and drink ; and from the richer quality of 
the soil, and greater heat of the situation, 
abound in grass and corn. 

The ocean, which forms the other consti- 
tuent of this globe, is also an immense re- 
ceptacle for living beings, and even plants. 
It affords the inhabitants of one country, 
an easy communication with those of ano- 
ther, maintains a constant intercourse with 
the atmosphere and the land ; sending 
up vapours into the one to be formed into 
clouds and rain, and receiving from the 
other all the waters brought down from 
its interior parts. 

It is also a vast reservoir, from which 
great quantities of excellent food can be 
procured. Many tribes of men live upon 
nothing else. Even nations in the highest 
stages of civilization and improvment draw 
from it much support ; and much more 



49 



■sight be drawn from it, if those living 
on its shores were more industrious, and 
those possessing influence in the neigh- 
bourhood would take every discourage- 
ment out of the way. 

In fact, this earth is a store-house of 
provisions for all our w r ants. Few neces- 
saries indeed it yields spontaneously ; but 
man knows how to force its riches both 
from its surface and its bowels ; and to 
convert the things which it yields into ar- 
ticles of use and convenience, as w T ell as 
pleasure and luxury. 

Such are the beautiful order and design, 
observable in the great departments of the 
material universe. Such are the laws 
which it constantly observes. Such the 
uniform changes which it undergoes. Such 
the unvarying aspect which it presents; 
never altering from its course, or disap- 
pointing our hopes. 

Now to him, that rightly considers these 
things, they can never appear the work of 
chance. No absurdity can be more gross 
than such a supposition. When the let- 
ters of the alphabet, thrown in sufficient 
number on a large table, shall form them- 
selves into such a work as Paradise Lost, 

D 



50 



or The Analogy of Religion, Natural and 
Revealed, to the course and constitution of 
nature ; we may believe that chance could 
produce such a regular and well designed 
system as the visible universe. 

Foolish and presumptuous men may ad- 
vance or embrace the most monstrous opi- 
nions ; but wise and diffident minds know, 
that it is utterly impossible that such an 
orderly system of means and ends as mate- 
rial nature could have existed without the 
contrivance, appointment, and guidance of 
some wise and intelligent being. 

This being must possess immense power, 
astonishing wisdom, and disinterested 
goodness. All these excellencies must be 
centred in him ; and the being, who is en- 
dowed with such perfections, we denomi- 
nate God, the object of reverence, adora- 
tion and obedience. 

Most certainly, from a careful consider- 
ation of every part of the material universe, 
reflecting men will rise to the great first 
cause. The firmament, which he has 
placed over our heads, bears testimony to 
his existence. The sun that shines upon 
us every day, and brings about the seasons 
every year, proclaims their author. The 



51 



moon that travails through the heavens 
each night, and all the stars that twinkle 
round her throne, lead to the fountain of 
being. Every wind that blows, and both 
the land and the water tell the same tale. 

Let us trace to the Deity, then, all the 
inanimate parts of nature. We ought 
eagerly to contemplate his perfections, 
as displayed in this department of his 
works. These are truly wonderful, and 
we ought never to weary in studying them. 
We cannot be engaged in a nobler work 
than enquiring, whence the heavens and 
the earth, the land and the water, the light 
and the air arose ; and rendering that ho- 
mage which is due to their great Creator. 



DISCOURSE IV 



ON THE PROOF OF A GOD FROM 
VEGETABLE, ANIMAL, AND 
RATIONAL LIFE. 

Rom. i. 20, 

For the invisible things of Him from the 
creation of the world are clearly seen 9 
being understood by the things that are 
made, even his eternal power and god- 
head; so that they are without excuse* 

In the last discourse I laid before you 
some views of material nature, in which 
grandeur, wisdom, and design are eminent- 
ly displayed ; and from the consideration 
of which the being of a God may be in- 
ferred. I am next to prove the same doc- 
trine from vegetable, animal, and ration- 
al life. 



54 

In this part of the subject lies the 
strength of the argument for the being of 
a God ; and it has been detailed at great 
length and with overpowering conviction 
by many excellent writers. It is only a 
glimpse which we can take of the argu- 
ment, and from the little noticed the sa- 
gacious reader will perceive, that much 
more could have been mentioned. 

Terrestrial nature has been divided in- 
to three kingdoms, minerals, vegetables, 
and animals. Though the exact limits of 
these kingdoms can hardly be traced, yet 
the great outlines are sufficiently distinct. 
No person, who has the use of his senses, 
can be in any danger of confounding a 
horse with a fir tree, or a fir tree with a 
piece of whin-stone. 

Not minerals, but vegetables and animals 
are said to live, and life, in the judgment 
of every reflecting man, is a most won- 
derful gift, and surely not to be commu- 
nicated to any mass of matter, but by the 
great first cause. 

Whatever may be the elegance of struc- 
ture or beauty of appearance in some mi- 
nerals, the growth of a vegetable is a great 
improvement upon dead matter ; but that 



55 



of an animal is still greater ; more espe- 
cially, when endowed with a high portion 
of reason as in the children of men. It is 
a state of conscious existence, which a ve- 
getable is not. 

All vegetables are subservient to ani- 
mals. They afford them food, shelter or 
habitation ; and besides these uses, they 
afford to men fuel, and almost every in- 
strument, which they use in the various 
arts of life. 

All the animals also are subservient to 
one another, and to man. Most of the 
weaker are the food of the stronger, and 
on that account are produced in greater 
plenty. To man they are useful many 
ways. They obey his will, and minister 
to his pleasures ; they assist his enterprises, 
and abridge his labours. 

Besides the subserviency of animals to 
one another ; they are wonderfully fitted 
for the element in which they live, and 
way of life which they lead ; the fowls of 
the air for flying, the fishes of the sea for 
swimming, and the animals of the land for 
moving. Some of these are endowed with 
amazing sagacity, strength, courage, or 
swiftness. All of them are possessed of 



56 



organs for procuring food, defending them- 
selves from enemies, or escaping from dan- 
ger. 

Here may be mentioned the due pre- 
servation of the different species of ani- 
mals from time immemorial. It is not 
well ascertained,* that any distinct spe- 
cies have been lost, and we are certain 
that none of those essentially distinct have 
been mixed. These facts, in our opinion, 
are an incontestable proof of a God. 

Another extraordinary fact, respecting 
the human species, will strike every re- 
flecting man. We do not mention the 
fact as applying to other species of ani- 
mals, as in that case it has not been suffi- 
ciently attended to. By the most accu- 
rate calculation it has been found, that 
the number of men and women born is near- 
ly equal ; and does any man think, that this 
nearness of equality could have been kept 
up for a long period of time, without the ap- 
pointment of some wise and intelligent 
being ? The comforts and the ends of hu- 
man life are thus admirably provided for ; 
and who can be the author of such an ad- 



* See Edin. Review. No 18,. Cuvier on Fossil Bones. 



57 



mirable provision but God ? If he were 
not to regulate such an affair, could the 
exact proportion have continued so long ? 
Might there not have been a remarkable 
deviation in the course of ages ? that 
this has not happened, is the strongest 
evidence that it will not happen, and 
we think the fact a most conclusive ar- 
gument for the being of a God. 

Such arguments thicken on every hand. 
In all animals, as well as vegetables, the ut- 
most care is shewn for the continuance of 
the race, and this continuance is secured by 
the division of each kind into sexes, and 
strong instinct prompts the sexes to unite 
in the tenderest friendship. 

The production of beings like them- 
selves is the result of this union ; and the 
care of the parents for the young is as 
surprising, as it is beautiful. In many 
cases they wdll starve themselves rather 
than their young should want ; and die 
rather than desert them in danger. Those 
that were weak then become strong; those 
that were cowardly then become brave. 
We need not refer to the hen for an ex- 
ample. Her courage and fierceness in de- 
fence of her young is a daily occurrence. 



58 



While the race is thus prevented from 
perishing, the safety of the individual is 
intrusted to his own care, and the love of 
self-preservation is strong even in death. 
Skin for skin, all that a man hath, will he 
give for his life!* What is a man profited, 
if he shall gain the whole world, and lose 
his life ; or what will a man give in ex- 
change for his life ? for so the words should 
be translated.! 

What marks of design are visible in the 
animal body itself? what curious contri- 
vance in every joint? How excellently 
formed are the legs for walking ; the arms 
for grasping, the ear for hearing, and the 
eye for seeing ! Most animals have a large 
outward ear, by which they collect sounds 
necessary for hearing distinctly from every 
quarter. The eye is the most won- 
derful organ of an animal body. Most 
animals have the power of rolling it from 
one side to the other, by which they can 
see objects not directly before them. 
Those, which are the most unweildy, have 



Job li. 4. 



f Matth. xvi. 26. 



59 



this power in the greatest degree. Man 
has it least of any, on account of the ease 
with which he turns his body. The eye 
too is placed in the most convenient part 
of the body for seeing, and it excels all 
other organs in holding the most direct 
communication with the mental principle. 
On it the various affections of the soul 
are painted, and it communicates at a 
single glance contempt or admiration, love 
or hatred, hope or fear, and other passions. 
By it we can survey every part of the sur- 
rounding universe, and converse with ob- 
jects the most distant. 

The frame of man's body is such an ex- 
quisite piece of workmanship, that it was 
long ago taken notice of by the psalmist. 
/ am fearfully and wonderfully made,* are 
his words, and whoever carefully studies it, 
will be apt to make the same observation. 

The uniformity of shape observable in 
all animals of the same kind is an illustri- 
ous proof of care and unity of design, 
which can be referred to none but God. 
As far back as history reaches, this unifor- 
mity holds. Human beings, for instance, 



* Psalm cxxxix. J 4, 



60 



have been the same through all genera- 
tions. They have always had the same 
figure of body ; and never from their ap- 
pearance been confounded with animals 
of a different species. 

This uniformity of shape, so observable 
in animals, is also true of vegetables. All 
trees of the same kind, as well as herbs, 
resemble one another. The shape of the 
leaves, the flowers, the fruit, the seeds, the 
bark, and the wood, are always uniform. 

The remarkable diversity of shape a- 
mong all vegetables and animals of the 
same kind, by which one individual is. 
known from another, leads to the same 
conclusion. 

As to animals, every individual of the 
same kind differs in some respect from an- 
other. They may greatly resemble, but 
they are never exactly alike. All men 
have some general conformation, but there 
is always some difference. All members 
of the same family have a nearer resem- 
blance than those of a different family ; 
but one is never mistaken for another by 
those that know them, not even twins, 
some of whom to strangers have appear- 
ed almost the same, 



61 



But uniformity, as well as diversity, in 
the shape of vegetables and animals, does 
not more lead to God, than the uni- 
formity as well as diversity in the minds 
of men. 

The minds of men in all ages are evi- 
dently of the same structure, and similar- 
ly affected by the same objects. All of 
them are capable of feeling, desiring, pre- 
fering, willing and reasoning, A true and 
able description of the passions, habits, and 
characters of men ; in whatever age it 
may be made, or in whatever language it 
may be written ; if it be understood, will 
be relished and admired. 

With this uniformity in the general 
complexion of men's minds, there is a won- 
derful diversity in their qualifications and 
tastes. One is distinguished for a love of 
glory, another for the spirit of traffic ; one 
has a partiality for the elegant arts, another 
for acute reasoning and abstract investi- 
gation. Some can unfold secrets in na- 
ture, which have been concealed for ages : 
while others can make improvements in dis- 
coveries long known. Some can happily 
invent, whatever is useful or ornamen- 
tal in life ; while others carelessly plod 



62 

along the path already pointed out. Some 
are sagacious in prognosticating future e- 
vents, and turn to account the times and 
seasons ; while others scarcely look be- 
yond the present moment, or betray any 
desire of bettering their condition. Multi- 
tudes are contented to drudge in the low- 
est employment, if they know no other ; 
while a very few aspire at a situation 
above that in which they were born. 

It has been asked from what cause this 
diversity in men's inclinations and capaci- 
ties has arisen ? Some ascribe it entirely 
to education, and others to original forma- 
tion. # We think that it is not owing to 
either singly, but that both have a share 
in producing it. Certainly the mind of 
man is greatly affected by objects the most 
familiar to him, the company which he 
keeps, and the pursuits in which he en- 
gages ; but still there is some cast or bent 
of mind, which prompts him more to one 
way of life than another, and makes him 
excel in some art or study, in which others 
cannot excel. 



* Some additional remarks on this subject will be found in Essays on 
Belles Leltresy lately published by the Author ; article Genius, page 
S6, etc. 



68 



But whatever may cause this diversity 
of talent or inclination among men, the 
purposes which it answers are obvious. 
By this means men are fitted for the sta- 
tions in life which they are to fill, and the 
professions which they are to follow. Every 
one finds his level in the system of society, 
and no place is left vacant. The attention 
being tied down to one occupation or call- 
ing, great perfection is acquired ; and men 
arrive at that eminence, by which they do 
credit to themselves, and become a bless- 
ing to the community. 

Such being the obvious purposes for 
which diversity of talents and inclinations 
among men has been given, are we not to 
argue from these that it is the work of 
God? Is it not to be ascribed to him, 
who made of one blood all nations of men, 
to dwell on all the face of the earth ; and 
hath determined the times before appointed, 
and the bounds of their habitation ?* While 
he placed men upon the earth, he foresaw 
what they were to do ; and he hath fitted 
them for their situation and work. 



Acts xviu 26. 



64 



Whoever carefully considers the whole 
organization of society, or attends to the 
relations of vegetable, animal, and ra- 
tional life ; will see it to be the work of a 
very wise and beneficent being ; one who 
excels in the greatest knowledge and skill, 
the consideration of which fills us with as- 
tonishment, and leads to the conviction, 
that God has ordered all these things. 

This conclusion will not be questioned 
by the humble and diligent observer. The 
beautiful colours and uses of the vegetable 
world display his perfections. The tribes 
of animals, from the smallest insects that 
wanton in the sun beam to man himself, the 
lord of this earth, shew his power wis- 
dom and goodness. On all these his ex- 
istence is stampt in indelible characters. 

All the views now taken of vegetable, ani- 
mal, and rational life, prove that God ex- 
ists, and force conviction on the serious 
and attentive enquirer. The obvious ap- 
pearances of wisdom and design, in these 
departments of nature, are some of the 
grounds on which our belief of this great 
doctrine is founded, and these any man, 
even the most illiterate, may readily com- 
prehend. 



65 



These are things which the eyes of all 
men constantly behold. They are those 
monuments by which the Almighty is 
known to his rational creatures. In all 
these God is to be found, if we seek him ; 
and certainly w T e ought to become acquaint- 
ed with his perfections as there discovered, 
but especially his greatness and power, 
his wisdom and goodness. 

This must be an exceedingly improving 
and profitable exercise. It must accustom 
us to the truest excellence. It must fa- 
miliarize our minds with the highest per- 
fection. It must introduce to our notice 
the source and foundation of all that is 
venerable, noble, and lovely. 

If this task shall be our care and delight, 
there will be present to our minds worthy 
and becoming ideas of God. We shall 
know him as the greatest and most per- 
fect of beings, as the sovereign of the uni- 
verse, as the disposer of the lives and for- 
tunes of men. 

Ought we not then to acknowledge and 
adore his transcendant perfections ? Ought 
we not to be filled with sentiments of ve- 
neration and gratitude, whenever he is the 



E 



66 



object of our deepest study, as well as ca- 
sual meditation ? 

Certainly if there is a God, and the marks 
of his existence are clear as day to every 
reflecting mind, men of sound understand- 
ing and candid heart will ever be forward 
to avow, that the author of ourselves and 
every thing around us is entitled to our 
profoundest homage, our everlasting gra- 
titude, and never failing obedience. We 
live by his bounty, and our lives ought to 
be consecrated to his service. 



DISCOURSE V. 



ON THE PROOF OF A GOD FROM THE 
V* INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL 
NATURE OF MAN. 

Rom. i. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the 
creation of the world are clearly seen, 
being understood by the things that are 
made, even his eternal power and god- 
head ; so that they are without excuse. 

We have already directed your attention 
to the curious and wonderful structure of 
vegetables and animals, and the proprie- 
ty and usefulness of the talents and ca- 
pacities of man. 

The latter topic we have not yet ex- 
hausted Man occupies too prominent a 
station on this earth, to be slightly noticed 



3 



68 



in a case of this kind. Justice will not 
be done to the subject, unless he stand on 
the fore-ground. 

As far as man is concerned, then, we 
are to view the subject in another, and, 
if possible, more interesting light. We are 
to consider, how the being of a God is prov- 
ed by his intellectual and moral nature. 

Man is by far the noblest of all the* ani- 
mals on this globe. His form is striking 
and majestic. He walks with an erect 
posture, and were you to judge from his 
appearance, you would conclude that he 
was fitted both for thought and action. 
He takes in one half of the heavens with 
the glance of his eye, and his arms are at 
full liberty for any enterprize which he 
chuses to undertake. 

On many occasions, no doubt, his figure 
is bowed down with labour, and the fire 
of his eye quenched in care and sorrow ; 
but when his spirits are high, and the 
tide of prosperity in full flow, there is a 
peculiar dignity and beauty in his form. 
There is a kind of divinity in his aspect, 
which strikes awe into every other ani- 
mal, however savage ; and when he con- 
verses with those of his kind, a sweet- 



69 



ness brightens up in his countenance alto- 
gether lovely. 

Man, from his outward appearance, may 
well seem the work of God, but from 
his intellectual and moral nature this 
conclusion is chiefly drawn. A capacity 
of thinking, and a sense of duty are his 
greatest excellencies; and m these the 
skill of his Maker and the superiority of 
his work principally appear. In this re- 
spect he has made him a little lower than 
the angeh\ and crowned him with, glory and 
honour* 

Man's intellectual nature is proved from 
the power of discovering abstract truths. 
He can consider qualities apart from their 
subjects, and trace the relation of things 
to one another. He can generalize his 
ideas, or reduce to classes any number of 
facts, which he has observed or collected. 
Hence all the sciences or divisions of hu- 
man knowledge take their rise. Religion 
and physics, morals and politics, are only 
but arrangements, which he has devised 
for his convenience, when speculating up- 



* PsaL viii. 5. 



70 



on God and nature, the duties of the in- 
dividual, or rights of the community. 

After man has arranged his knowledge, 
he can readily teach it to others. This 
talent distinguishes the man of education 
from him that is not educated. The un- 
educated man equally exercises the power 
of abstracting and generalizing in the af- 
fairs of life, but he cannot teach others 
what he knows with equal advantage. In 
unpremeditated discourse he may com- 
municate his knowledge with equal, if not 
greater effect ; but in that case his feel- 
ings and passions are deeply interested. 

Men of all animals act upon a plan, 
They deliberately chuse the scheme which 
they are to follow, and employ means, to 
accomplish the end which they propose. 
In the use of these their sagacity chiefly 
appears. They reach their object from 
that forethought or use of reason, which 
so much exalts them above the brutes. 

As a proof of this remark, we need on- 
ly appeal to the improvements in any art, 
which men are capable of making, A bee 
forms its cell as well the first time as ever 
after ; a bird builds its nest at all times 
with equal perfection ; but man's first at- 



71 



tempts are rude. He succeeds better the 
second trial, and every time that he does 
try, till he arrive at a perfection, which is 
truly astonishing, and which at first he 
could not have imagined to be within his 
reach. 

From this feature in man's intellectual 
character, the ordinary business of life is 
carried on. Trades are exercised, and pro- 
fessions followed. From minute and un- 
remitting attention, that excellency in the 
manual arts is attained, which strikes those 
with astonishment, whose attention is dif- 
ferently directed. 

In this respect human sagacity is limit- 
ed ; but often it takes a wider and loftier 
range. It acts upon a grander and more 
magnificent scale, It calculates upon the 
extent of human power, and studies how 
human life may be embellished and im- 
proved. It inquires how comforts are to 
be multiplied, and prosperity continued 
and increased. 

From that ingenuity planted in the 
mind of man, order in society is maintain - 
ed, laws framed, and governments esta- 
blished ; the languages of different nations 
acquired, the transactions of past ages re- 



72 



corded? the characters of men delineated, 
talents estimated, and worth celebrated ; 
the winds put under eontroul, the water 
laid under contribution, and the earth call- 
ed upon for her increase ; elegant and 
magnificent buildings reared, mountains 
levelled, rivers arched over, the waves of 
the ocean crossed, and foreign countries 
visited and explored ; the boundaries of 
the globe ascertained, the height of the 
atmosphere measured, and the number of 
the stars counted. 

What ingenuity must man possess, who, 
though so little in bulk, can subject the 
visible universe to his designs ? what ad- 
dress must he command, who can carry 
on his operations in every quarter of the 
globe ? How exalted must be his reason, 
how steady his attention, how daring his 
genius, how cool his judgment ; who from 
the whole face of nature, the complicated 
j relations of life, and the very depth and 
windings of the human soul; can bring 
forth whatever contributes to his power, 
his interest, or his satisfaction ? 

When man uses his intellectual powers, 
he suffers nothing to escape his observa- 
tion, He explores the powers which regu- 



73 



late the motions of the planets. He stu- 
dies the laws by which vegetables and ani- 
mals are governed. He investigates the 
nature and character of man, and admires 
his vigour and skill. He pores over the 
wonders of his body, and pries into the re- 
cesses of his soul. 

The understanding of man can make 
a still bolder exertion. It can search in- 
to the cause of every appearance in the 
surrounding universe, and discover God 
from his works. Such a discovery is un- 
avoidable, when he reflects. Should he 
try to banish the belief of God from his 
breast, he could not. His reason, in spite 
of the attempt, would stand up in its sup- 
port. 

Man's understanding is vastly superior 
to every thing here below ; but he has no 
occasion to boast. However excellent, it 
is not his contrivance. He possesses it, but 
it comes from some other being, and who 
can that be but God ? Man is capable of 
acquiring knowledge, and who but the Al- 
mighty has endowed him with this capa- 
city ? From the efforts of his reason, he 
can act a distinguished part upon the 



74 



earth, but who has given him this reason, 
but he who created the earth ? 

Thus is the being of a God proved from 
the intellectual nature of man, not of the 
individual only, but of the whole race, 
whether living now or in former times, 
whether in near or distant regions. 

But the intellectual is not more to be 
accounted a proof of a God than the moral 
nature of man. 

Man's moral nature is much debased by 
sin. His susceptibility to the impressions of 
virtue is much weakened by his familiarity 
with vice. He is led astray by the per- 
versity of his own heart, as well as the 
corrupting influence of those around him ; 
but still it is the moral part of his nature, 
which constitutes his greatest glory, and 
chiefly resembles the divine. No animal 
but man, has properly a notion of duty, 
or can reckon itself bound by a law. He 
only has within himself a sense of accoun- 
tableness for his actions, and is happy or 
miserable, according as he acts. 

No doubt, he may often neglect, or dis- 
regard the duties incumbent upon him, but 
he can enjoy no peace, or be satisfied with 
himself, unless he perform them. Should 



75 



he purloin his neighbour's property, or 
take away his life ; should he be guilty of 
gross intemperance, or excessive debauch- 
ery ; whenever he reflects, he knows that 
he has done wrong, is ashamed of his ini- 
quity, and hates himself for his baseness. 

Hence many of those follies, of which 
he is guilty, and those upbraidings of 
conscience, to which he is liable. He does 
wrong and repents ; is sorry and resolved 
to amend; and yet after all his experi- 
ence, and in spite of his strongest convic- 
tions, he repeats the same actions. 

For a time he may hide his delinquen- 
cy from his own eyes ; but there is one 
within him, which will find it out, and re- 
prove him on that account. From a course 
of vice, the warnings of conscience may be 
laid asleep ; from sensual indulgencies, the 
idea of right and wrong may be nearly ef- 
faced ; from abundance of all the conve- 
niences and pleasures of life, he may be 
sunk in security, or lulled to indifference ; 
but when the aspect of things begins to 
change, when the current of prosperity 
ceases to flow, some great calamity threat- 
ens, deep melancholy settles on the soul, 
friends and companions die, and death ap- 



76 



proaches ; the moral feelings, which had 
been long dead, revive ; the wickedness 
of an ill spent life rushes upon his recol- 
lection ; he fears what may be his fate in 
another world ; and from a sense of dan- 
ger, if not guilt, regrets that he has acted 
amiss ; and would give the whole world, 
were it at his disposal, that he had an op- 
portunity of correcting those vices into 
which he has fallen. 

All these wishes and resolutions may 
be vain, if life is extended, and his days 
prosperous ; but still this is the way in 
which the moral part of his nature acts, 
ft is in affliction chiefly that we hear men 
grieving for their sins. It is on a death- 
bed that we see them shedding the tears 
of repentance. 

In all seasons of deep thought, the idea 
of God occurs to the mind of man. When 
in distress, he looks up to him for help ; 
when about to die, he commits himself to 
his mercy ; and from that favour which he 
has all along experienced, trusts for the 
continuance of his existence in future 
worlds. 

The moral nature of man eminently dis- 
tinguishes him from the brutes. They 



77 



are guided only by their appetites, and 
that which is strongest at the time pre- 
vails. You can have no reliance upon 
them, when they are out of your sight ; 
you can make no bargain with them, which 
they will keep ; but man comes under a 
promise . He feels himself under a tie, when 
he enters into terms with you ; and you 
trust him, because he has given you his 
word. If he breaks it, both in his own 
judgment and in yours, he has done wrong, 
and deserves to be punished. 

Hence it is easy to see that man can be 
made a subject of government, that he can 
come under the restraints of law, that he 
can be moved by the hope of reward, or 
the fear of punishment, that he can be 
trained up in the present for a future life, 
and act upon earth as a candidate for 
heaven. 

It is natural for man to worship that 
God, whom he has discovered. If his un- 
derstanding teaches him to be his Creator 
and Preserver, his heart will prompt him, 
to adore his perfections. If he considers 
him as his governor and judge, he will be 
inclined to obey his commands ; to recom- 
mend himself to his favour, by doing right ; 



78 



and to deprecate his vengeance, when do- 
ing wrong. 

Of all terrestrial animals man has a sense 
of religion. This is the proudest distinc- 
tion of his being. In this high character- 
istic of his nature the work of God is seen. 
It raises him to that excellence, by which 
he ranks with angels, or the noblest of 
created existences. 

Now who, it may be asked, is the au- 
thor of this part of his nature? who 
formed him with a feeling of moral obli- 
gation, and sense of accountableness for 
his actions? Who told him to expect a re- 
ward, when he conducted himself properly ; 
or to dread punishment, when he acted 
contrary to the light of his own mind ? It 
is God. He imparted this intelligence to 
his soul. He lighted up this divine spark in 
his breast. On the reason and conscience 
of man, however clouded by ignorance, or 
disguised by vice, his image is impressed, 
ind a glimpse of his excellence conveyed. 

Will any one doubt the truth of the ac- 
count now given, or not acknowledge its 
justness and force ? God has made man the 
sovereign of those innumerable beings, with 
which he has filled this earth. He has 



79 



bestowed understanding upon him, and 
enabled him to reason upon every thing 
that draws his notice. He has endowed 
him with a sense of duty, and convinced 
him that he cannot do wrong and be 
happy. 

As a mark of his high pre-eminence, he 
has enabled him to discover God from 
his works, and to learn that to him his ser- 
vice is due. This conclusion he cannot 
avoid, without setting aside the belief of 
his existence ; and while the universe re- 
mains, and man is alive upon the earth, 
this is utterly impossible. 

If nature through all her works pro- 
claims that there is a God, and man is 
capable of understanding her language ; 
his straight and onward course is ever to 
act as if he believed his existence, and ne- 
ver to be wanting in that reverence to 
which he is entitled, Here he can labour 
under no mistake ; and while it is his du- 
ty to crave his protection, his happiness 
must be to experience his favour. 



DISCOURSE VI. 



ON THE PROOF ARISING FROM THE 
CONSENT OF MANKIND IN 
BELIEVING A GOD. 

Rom. i. 20. 

For the invisible things of Him from the 
creation of the world are clearly seen, 
being understood by the things that are 
made, even his eternal power and god- 
head ; so that they are toithout excuse. 

The apostle refers us in these words 
to the visible universe, in order to be in- 
structed in the knowledge of God. In 
every part of nature is he discovered. 
Both in the heavens and the earth traces 
of his existence and supremacy are to be 
seen. His wisdom, power, and goodness, 

F 



82 



are every where to be read in the plainest 
characters. 

If we consider what is going on around 
us, if we consult our own experience, or listen 
to the testimony of others, we will be per- 
suaded that there is a God ; that he has 
created, preserves, and governs all things ; N 
that we are the objects of his notice, and 
that it is our interest to please him. 

We have nearly exhausted the different 
topics, which we proposed to consider, 
when we entered on this subject. Our ob- 
servations, indeed, might have been swell- 
ed into a much greater length. We might 
even have made the text a foundation, on 
which a whole system of natural religion 
might have been built ; but we determin- 
ed to be short, and after having glanced 
at the great outlines of proof, on which 
the belief of a God rests, we are come to 
the last particular of the arrangement, 
which we laid down at the outset ; name- 
ly, the consent of mankind in acknowledg- 
ing this truth. 

The inhabitants of every country, with 
which we are acquainted, have believed in 
some superior intelligence, who governed 
the world. However much they have dif- 



\ 



83 

fered in colour, laws, customs and civili- 
zation ; they have always agreed in the 
belief of that great doctrine, which we have 
been establishing. 

Travellers, indeed, have told us, that 
there have been tribes of men, who had no 
idea of u supreme being ; but either their 
reports have not been sufficiently accurate, 
as they have been contradicted by other 
travellers ; or they have been so little ac- 
quainted with the people about whom 
they pretended to write, that their testi- 
mony in this case is of no weight ; or if in 
any instance tribes of men have been found, 
who had no idea of a God, they have been 
so low in civilization, and the common 
arts of life, as to differ little in mental en- 
dowments from the beasts of the field. No 
more can their want of the idea of a God 
prove that there is no such being, than a 
blind man's want of the idea of colours, 
can prove that there is no such thing. 
Men need only to use their reason, to be 
convinced that there is a God. They 
have only to look at the heavens and the 
earth, at the vegetable, animal, and ration- 
al worlds ; at men themselves, as intelli- 
gent and moral beings ; to be confirmed 



3 



84 



in their belief of a supreme governor, and 
universal Lord, whom all things obey. 

It has been a great question among spe- 
culative men, whether the consent of man- 
kind in believing a God has arisen from 
tradition, or their own reflections on the 
works of nature ; whether they have deriv- 
ed this notion from their fathers, or drawn 
it themselves from the surrounding uni- 
verse, which they contemplated ; whether, 
in short from the information of others, or 
the use of their own understandings. 

This is a question rather curious than 
useful ; which may puzzle, but which it is 
not necessary to decide. In our apprehen- 
sion, indeed, it would seem to be owing 
both to tradition and reason. Children 
undoubtedly derive notions of a God from 
their parents and instructors ; and it is 
equally certain, that when they arrive at 
the years of discretion, exert their own 
powers of judgment, and attend to the 
works of creation and providence around 
them ; they can discern traces of some 
great, wise, and beneficent being, who or- 
ders all events ; and by this means ascer- 
tain the truth of those ideas of a God, 
which they have learned from their pa- 



rents and instructors ; or if they have had 
no such ideas before, these for the first 
time rise up in their minds. 

If the argument for the being of a God 
from the consent of mankind is owing to 
reason ; then it is not to be considered as 
different from that drawn from the works 
of nature, which we have been illustrating, 
but as coinciding with it, and at any rate 
supporting it. It is in fact the result of it 
upon the minds of men. It is a proof that 
they have used their powers of under- 
standing in the same way, and that all 
have come to the same conclusion. 

If it is owing to tradition, it behov- 
ed at first to be taught by revelation, or 
at least learned by those sensible com- 
munications, which God himself had with 
the first men, and from whom it has de- 
scended through all generations of the race 
to our day; dreadfully disguised indeed by 
the infinite forms of idolatry and supersti- 
tion, with which the world has been over- 
spread ; but never entirely abolished, ex- 
cept perhaps among a few savages, in some 
remote corners of the earth, who in shape 
resemble men, but in understanding and 



86 



conduct are little superior to the brutes 
that perish. 

We are decidedly of opinion, that the 
notion of a God was first received in this 
way, and that it has been propagated from 
one to another, down to our times ; but 
nevertheless maintain, that the great 
works of nature have borne testimony to 
this notion of deity, derived from tradi- 
tion ; and convinced men, when they were 
grown up, that what they had heard from 
their parents, was not to be questioned. 

That the being of a God was learned in 
this manner, the records of revelation now 
remaining authorise us to think. They 
never attempt to prove his existence ; but 
all along take this great doctrine for grant- 
ed. They even set out with telling us that 
God in the beginning made the heavens 
and the earth ; and, as they never start a 
doubt about his existence, so they never 
betray a suspicion that men will dispute 
it. 

As from the authority of revelation, the 
first men acknowledged a God, their suc- 
cessors ever since have thought that he 
superintends and directs all events. In 
every tribe the altar, the sacrifice, and 



87 



the priest have been found ; or the mi- 
nister of God, and the service which he re- 
quires. 

Though the first men did not disbelieve 
the existence of God, yet their successors 
erred about his unity. They every where 
believed in a plurality of gods. They fan- 
cied that they dwelt in every quarter of the 
heavens, in every region of the earth, and 
even in dungeons below the earth. 

It was judged necessary to correct this 
great error ; and to teach, not the being, 
but the unity of God, seemed to be the 
chief point, about which revelation in the 
first ages was concerned. To preserve the 
knowledge of the unity of God was the 
direct, if not the principal intention of the 
Mosaic or old dispensation of religion; 
and, while it lasted, this doctrine was often 
inculcated, Hear, O Israel, the Lord our 
God, is one Lord* 
No doubt another grand object of that 
• dispensation was to give intimation of a 
Deliverer from sin and death, termed Shi- 
loh or Messiah ; who was to come into the 
world at a period called the fulness of 



* Deut, vi. 4, 



88 



time, and to which momentous event, all 
the faithful, who lived under that dis- 
pensation, were commanded to look for- 
ward. 

When this Deliverer appeared in the 
person of Jesus of Nazareth, and published 
his religion to the world, the christian or 
new dispensation commenced, and men 
were instructed, that its author was to be 
intrusted with the government of the mo- 
ral world, and had both power and autho- 
rity to make men virtuous and happy. 

While this is the ostensible object of 
the christian dispensation, it does not in- 
sist on the being of a God more than the 
other. That it equally takes for granted, 
and equally supposes that all men acknow- 
ledge. 

The object of revealed religion, then, is 
not to teach the being of a God. That 
is left to natural religion ; and what natu- 
ral religion teaches, we have already seen, 
and endeavoured to shew. Arguments, 
which completely establish this point, are 
suggested by every thing around and with- 
in us. 

From this account, the consent of man- 
kind in believing a God may be explain- 



89 



ed. It seems to have arisen from both 
sources of information, — from the co-opera- 
tion of revelation with reason ; from the 
direct displays of Deity himself, with the 
inferences to be drawn from his works. 

But however this consent is to be ac- 
counted for, it is so general, that there is 
hardly any exception. It is equally com- 
mon to Jew and Gentile, ancient and mo- 
dern, civilized and barbarous, great and 
mean, bond and free. 

The consent of men in believing a God 
being so universal, this doctrine stands 
on the firmest foundations, and men will 
sooner cease to be, than it not be acknow- 
ledged. It has been handed down from 
father to son, among wise and polished na- 
tions, as well as rude and ignorant sava- 
ges ; and from the admirable economy of 
the material universe, and all living beings, 
and particularly the exquisite structure of 
the minds and bodies of men, they are 
convinced that they are not mistaken. 
The works of creation and providence are 
standing monuments of the being of a God 5 
and fill the breast of every serious and 
thinking man with reverence of his per- 



90 



son, admiration of his wisdom, and love of 
his goodness. 

Some to be sure take away all ground 
of acknowledging these attributes, by main- 
taining that the universe itself is God ; but 
if any are serious in maintaining such a 
doctrine, their understandings can hardly 
resemble those of other men. Can any rea- 
sonable man believe that every atom of 
matter can be God, or every vegetable and 
animal ? and yet this must be the case, if 
the universe be God. 

But if the collection of materials called 
the universe be God, he must be void 
of personality ; or in other words cannot 
exist ; and when the patrons of this opi- 
nion come to explain themselves, they 
will be seen to be atheists ; and probably 
to screen themselves from such a charge, 
they have avowed this strange opinion. 

In the same rank are to be placed those, 
who hold that the mass of substances, call- 
ed the universe, and the collection of events 
happening around us, are necessary, or or- 
dered by fate. Such notions equally under- 
mine the existence of God, and subvert the 
foundation on which our belief of it rests. 
They are the refuge of presumptuous and 



91 

conceited men, who would embrace the 
grossest absurdities, rather than believe 
with the multitude. 

No doubt there is a strange indifference 
in most men to such evidence of a God, as 
his works every where display, and they be- 
hold them every day without recollecting 
their author. If they can enjoy the plea- 
sures of life, and gratify their passions, they 
suffer the greatness, skill, and benevo- 
lence of God, discovered in his works, to 
pass without notice or acknowledgment. 

This carelessness of spirit we ought to 
avoid. By frequent meditation on the 
things which he has made and governs, 
we should ascend to the great first cause, 
and cherish that frame of mind which will 
dispose us to acknowledge his supremacy, 
and obey his will. 

Though in his essence he may be far re- 
moved from mortal sight, yet to the eye of 
reason he has given many proofs of his 
existence. These are scattered over all 
his works, and arrest our attention, where- 
ever we turn ourselves. We must be blind, 
if we do not observe them; or very thought- 
less, if we neglect them, 



92 



We ought then to be among the num- 
ber of those who cultivate an acquaintance 
with the first of beings, think of their 
Creator and Preserver as they ought, and 
carefully suppress every idea of him which 
he as their governor and judge will con- 
demn. If we are convinced that God ex- 
ists, and that the universe is the work of his 
hands, we ought to study his character, pon- 
der on his attributes, and have our minds 
filled with proper conceptions of his gran- 
deur and power, his wisdom and goodness. 

Let then his high supremacy, his pure 
excellency, his awful majesty, his wonder- 
ful knowledge, astonishing kindness, and 
unspotted glory, subdue our minds to the 
acknowledgment of himself, and a ready 
obedience to his will ; and if the contem- 
plation of his attributes have this effect on 
our minds, we shall excel in pious princi- 
ples and virtuous dispositions, in devoted- 
ness to God and in deep concern for men ; 
in integrity of heart, and correctness of 
life ; in all that becomes our dependent 
and accountable state. 

It is very foolish to shelter our indiffer- 
ence about God, under the excuse that we 
do not comprehend his perfections. How- 



93 



ever incomprehensible these may be, we 
cannot deny his existence. If we rightly 
use our reason, we must discover his exis- 
tence ; while it is to be expected, that we 
should not know his nature. The ques- 
tion, put by the author of the book of Job, 
one of the olctest in the world, admits 
this inability in its full extent; — Who 
can by searching find out God ? Who can 
find out the Almighty to perfection f % — but 
that book does not encourage indifference 
to his service, however incomprehensible 
may be his perfections. 

Certainly if there is a God, as all his 
works every where declare, we should as- 
cribe to him glory and honour. If he has 
not left himself without a witness, but given 
as rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, 
filling our hearts with food and gladness ;\ 
we should be truly grateful and ever ready 
to utter his praise. If he is our Creator 
and Preserver, we should devote to him 
the homage of our hearts, as well as the 
service of our lives. 

But we should serve as well as worship 
the God of the universe. His eternal pow- 



Job. XI. /• 



f Acts. xiv. 17. 



94 



er and Godhead are clearly seen from the 
things which he has made, and we are with- 
out excuse, if we do not serve him. There 
is no being whatever, who has such claim 
to our service, nor service of any which 
can be so favourable to our present com- 
fort, and our eternal welfare. The chief 
doctrine of religion is the being of a God, 
and the very essence of morals obedience 
to his commands. While our reason tells 
us that God exists, let not our actions de- 
clare that we deny his existence. The fool 
hath said in his heart that there is no God,* 
and let us take care that we do not act as if 
there was none. If no man can infer from 
our conduct, that we are chargeable with 
this folly, then shall we believe this great 
truth. Then shall we glorify him with our 
bodies and our spirits which are his ;f then 
shall we present to him the sacrifice of an 
enlightened understanding and a devout 
heart, ivhich is our reasonable service.\ 

In these Discourses on the Proof of a God, we have chiefly followed the 
plan of Abernethy, in his excellent discourses on that subject, which the 
reader may consult ; but above all, he ought to acquaint himself with 
Paley's very superior work called Natural Theology, &c. in which the 
arguments are well arranged, and their strength invincible. 



* Psal. xiv. 1. -f- i. Cor. vi. 20. 



% Rom. xu. 1 



DISCOURSE VII 



ON THE TRUTH OF A PROVIDENCE. 
Matth. x. 29, 30, 81. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? 
and one of them shall not fall on the 
ground without your father. But the 
very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more 
value than many sparrows. 

The design of these words is to shew 
the minuteness of that care which God 
exercises over his works. If the hairs of 
our head are all numbered, how perfect 
must that care be which extends to the 
infinite little things that fill up the uni- 
verse ! 



96 

What is of the greatest consequence, 
is the benevolence with which that care is 
exercised. If God is concerned for spar- 
rows, which are things of little value, and 
about whose lives we are so indifferent ; 
much more will he be so about men, 
whose lives and comforts they are so apt 
to overvalue. 

Such views of a wise and overruling pro- 
vidence were most seasonable, when our 
Lord was speaking of the persecutions to 
which his followers would be exposed. 
They might suffer, but would not be for- 
got by the great governor of the universe. 
Their bitterest enemies were altogether 
under his controul, and could not injure 
them farther than he allowed. 

Such doctrine, indeed, to whomsoever 
addressed, is not more sublime than conso- 
latory ; and well deserves an ample dis- 
cussion. In discoursing upon it we shall 
consider the evidence on which our belief 
of it rests ; state what is to be understood 
by a general providence, point out the 
notion of a particular providence, dwell on 
the satisfaction which the contemplation 
of it gives to good men, and lastly, expati- 



97 



ate on the obligation which all are under to 
attend to and observe it. 

We begin with viewing the evidence on 
which the belief of a providence rests ; and 
in doing so, we ought to consider the 
whole visible universe ; but at present we 
can only take a rapid view of those parts 
of it, in which the exercise of a providence 
is more prominent. 

Can we attentively view the mass of 
things around us, and not conclude that 
providence superintends them ? Can we 
inquire into the motions of the sun, moon, 
and stars, and not believe that a wise and 
powerful being has contrived and con- 
tinues them? [do we imagine that things 
so beautiful and sublime, so orderly and 
useful, are without a God to direct 
them ? 

The more we inquire into material na- 
ture, the more will we discover a provi- 
dence. If we have doubts at first, they will 
disappear on reflection. After the dark- 
est night, the morning begins to dawn ; 
and the sun continues to mount up the 
sky, till the full day be disclosed. 

But the conduct of providence is dis- 
played in animal as well as material nature. 



98 



In all the animals which God has formed, 
he has planted instincts, appetites, and 
passions, by which their safety and pre- 
servation are consulted, and much plea- 
sure communicated. 

This doctrine is particularly true in re- 
gard to ourselves, whether as individuals 
or members of society. Every sensible man 
is convinced of its truth, from an impartial 
survey of his own experience. However 
faint the idea of a providence may seem, 
when he considers the events of his life, 
detached from one another ; it blazes forth 
in full strength, when he considers them 
in conjunction. When in health and in 
spirits, he may have been thoughtless and 
unconcerned ; but when he stands on the 
brink of the eternal world, he will have am- 
ple reason for thinking that he has been 
under the guidance of providence. 

On one hand we find, that what we in- 
tended has seldom come to pass ; that often 
the wisest plans have proved abortive ; 
that the measure, on which we chiefly set 
our hearts, has failed ; and the hope, which 
we most ardently cherished, been blast- 
ed. 



99 



On the other hand, when we seemed with- 
out a friend, when the billows of adversity 
rolled on every side, and grim despair hung 
over our heads, some unforeseen accident 
has given a new turn to our affairs, and 
raised us to unexpected honour and inde- 
pendence. As God did to his ancient 
people the Jews, when carried to Babylon, 
he has turned again our captivity as the 
streams in the south* 

Man is subject to fierce and ungovern- 
able passions, but these God makes to mi- 
nister to his will, and fulfil his purpose. 
These, like the waves of the sea, he governs 
at his pleasure, and sets bounds to them, 
which they cannot pass over. In the 
midst of the uproar, he says to them : Hi- 
therto shalt thou come, but no further ; and 
here shall thy proud waves be stayed.f 

In the 76th psalm, which is a hymn of 
thanksgiving for some great deliverance, 
and thought to be composed by Asaph on 
the defeat of Sennacherib's army, the pro- 
vidence of God is described in the most 
magnificent terms, and Jehovah himself 



* Psal. cxxvi. 4. + Job. xxxviii. 11. 



3 



100 



is thus addressed : Thou shalt make the 
wrath of man to praise thee, Oh Lord. The 
remainder of wrath thou shalt restrain. 

Men are generally selfish in their inten- 
tions, and who but God directs these to 
the public good ? who but the Almighty 
guides the multitude of interfering inter- 
ests, and while the individual enjoys, takes 
care that society do not suffer ? that the 
prosperity of the state should arise from 
the success of every citizen ? 

In the almost innumerable relations 
of life, a variety of tempers and inclina- 
tions is necessary ; and who produces this 
variety of tempers and inclinations ? who 
bestows upon men all the qualifications 
which they possess, or adjusts their ta- 
lents and acquirements to the stations 
which they fill ? God alone is equal to the 
task. He sees that the concerns of life 
do not stand still. He finds plenty of 
instruments to carry on its affairs. 

But the providence of God is still farther 
displayed in the government of states, or 
large associations of men. Here his inter- 
ference is clearly discerned. Here he is ex- 
hibited in all the majesty of his character. 
From his throne in the heavens he deals 



101 



put the destiny of nations, and brings out 
the accomplishment of his decrees from 
their resolutions and pursuits. 

If they are wise and virtuous, industrious 
and public spirited, observant of public 
faith, and careful of private morals ; they 
flourish, and grow great; fix their roots 
in the earth, and cannot be plucked up ; 
are confortable at home, and respected 
abroad ; ruling in wisdom, and extensively 
obeyed. 

But if they are corrupted and low-mind- 
ed, factious and turbulent, given to kna- 
very and selfishness, receiving bribes in the 
administration of justice, exposing the high- 
est offices to sale, and taking pensions from 
the enemies of their country ; their ruin 
is not far distant. The seeds of dissolu- 
tion are already sown, and if the breath 
of an enemy do not blow them away, they 
will of themselves fall to pieces. 

These may be ruined, but providence 
sometimes discovers dangerous conspira- 
cies, to protect states. With whatever wis- 
dom conspiracies may be planned, they 
seldom succeed. They often fail, on the 
very verge of execution. They are often 
discovered, when the best and greatest of 



102 



men are on the brink of destruction. 
Though concealed with the greatest care, 
some unlooked for circumstance has brought 
them to light. A bird of the air has seem- 
ed to carry the matter* and while secretly 
plotting blood and murder, tlie stone to 
cry out of the wall and the beam out of the 
timber to answer it.j- 

Equally convincing is the fate of public 
oppressors. Have we not seen the proud 
and the violent, whom no territory, and no 
power would satisfy, when they thought 
themselves seated on immoveable founda- 
tions, suddenly overturned? After they 
have triumphed over the w eak, and insult- 
ed the peaceable; spread desolation through 
the land, and carried slaughter to every 
house ; the armies, which they have col- 
lected, have been dispersed, and the terrors, 
which they awakened, turned into ridicule. 
Their schemes of ambition and conquest 
have been checked and undone. The ele- 
ments have been let loose, and by the tem- 
pest and the flood, they have been crushed 
and overwhelmed. 

From such views as these men believe 
in a providence, and nothing more strong- 



* Ecdes. x. 20. f Plab. n. 11. 



108 



ly shows this belief than religious institu- 
tions. We come together to worship God 
every Sabbath, and that there is a provi- 
dence all religious w r orship loudly declares. 
Such worship would have no meaning, if 
this doctrine were not true. Even the 
most absurd superstitions countenance it. 
The most bigotted idolator stands in awe 
of some supreme governor, whom he 
wishes not to offend. 

But nothing can more demonstrate 
this doctrine, than the whole history of 
our religion ; or afford more triumphant 
instances, than those records of it, which 
have been given to the world. 

No individual, recorded in scripture, was 
more noticed by providence than Joseph. 
From telling a dream to his brothers, he so 
offended them, that they seized him one 
day in the fields, and intended to murder 
him ; when Midianite-merchants, coming 
up, bought and carried him to Egypt. Af- 
ter he arrived thither, he was sold to an offi- 
cer of Pharaoh's household, and from a false 
charge thrown into prison ; but at the end 
of some years, he was, by a wonderful con- 
juncture of circumstances, brought into 



104 



favour with the king, and raised to the 
government of the land. 

The more closely we consider the life 
of this most excellent man, the more will 
we be persuaded that he was the care 
of providence. All his misfortunes paved 
the way to his exaltation. The result of 
all his afflictions left him the instrument 
of preserving much people, and providing 
for his father's house. 

The finger of providence is likewise 
strongly marked in the life of Haman. 
This man was a favourite of a great mo- 
narch, and had almost an unlimited sway 
over his opinions and counsels ; but because 
Mordecai the Jew did not pay him that 
homage which he expected and received 
from others ; he determined not only to 
destroy Mordecai, but all the Jews through 
the Persian empire ; and such was his 
power and influence, that he procured a 
decree for that purpose, which was to be 
executed the next day. 

The night before the execution, how- 
ever, the king could not sleep, and, to 
pass the time, consulted the Persian re- 
cords. In these it was written that Mor- 
decai had discovered a conspiracy against 



105 



his life, but had received no reward. To 
remedy this neglect, he instantly desired 
Haman, to confer on Mordecai that very 
honour, which he had advised and intended 
for himself ; and, the queen discovering her 
relation to Mordecai and Hainan's malice, 
he was, by a strange reverse of fortune, or- 
dered to be hanged on that gallows, 50 cu- 
bits high, which he had erected for his ri- 
val. 

But of all the persons recorded in scrip- 
ture, providence was chiefly interested 
about Jesus Christ. His birth was mi- 
raculous. The most remarkable circum- 
stances of his public and private life had 
been foretold by prophets, as well as the 
excellence of his character, and the nature 
of his doctrines ; the malice of his enemies, 
and the success of their plots to bring him 
to a painful and ignominious death. 

This illustrious person was intended to 
be the Saviour of sinners, and all the means 
which his enemies took to ruin him, and 
stifle at the very birth those purposes, for 
which he was sent into the world, were 
directly and unavoidably accomplished. 
No sensible and candid man, who reads the 
history of his life, and admits it to be true, 



106 



can renounce the conviction of a provi- 
dence. It stares him in the face as he goes 
along, and when he comes to the close, he 
can only wonder and adore. 

Equally striking is the display of pro- 
vidence in the history of the Jewish na- 
tion. They seem to have been selected 
from the rest of mankind, that they might 
exemplify its exercise upon the earth. 
This great truth is taught by what they suf- 
fered, as well as what they enjoyed ; by 
their prosperity, as well as adversity ; by 
their victories over their enemies, as 
well as subjection to their sway ; by their 
rise at first, by their fate afterwards, and 
by their continuance in the world to this 
day. 

No less convincing is the proof of a pro- 
vidence from the rise and progress, estab- 
lishment and present state of Christianity 
in the world. All these matters were in 
the eye of God from the beginning. 
All his communications with men in the 
first ages had this object in view. With 
this intention Abraham was called from 
his country and kindred, and institutions 
of a peculiar kind prescribed to him and 
his posterity. 



107 



Even the stateof the surrounding nations 
was so ordered as to introduce it with ad- 
vantage. Kingdom after kingdom arose, 
and empire succeeded to empire, till at last 
the best known and most civilized parts of 
the world fell under one dominion, and 
the nations, over which it reached, were liv- 
ing in peace, when the Messiah appear- 
ed, who had been long foretold, and was 
eagerly expected. 

Every art was used to suppress and 
annihilate that religion which he founded ; 
but all the means, which they took to over- 
throw it, only established it the more. The 
outrageous violence of men only made it 
take the deeper root. By abuse and insult, 
it grew and prospered. 

Even when our religion was embraced 
by the imperial family, and supported by 
the great and the powerful, marks of the 
doctrine, now illustrated, were visible. 
The attention and respect paid to it flow- 
ed from the alteration of the times. The 
countenance given to it fixed it more firm- 
ly in the earth, as well as carried it safe- 
ly through the dark ages which followed. 
At this melancholy period, it was in the ut- 



108 



most danger of perishing ; but it was fos- 
tered in the bosom of states, and protected 
by courts. According to the declaration of 
Isaiah, Kings had become its nursing fa- 
thers, and queens its nursing mothers* 

To this period of darkness succeeded the 
invention of printing, and the reformation 
of popery ; by which the wits of men were 
prodigiously sharpened, and knowledge 
widely diffused, as well as carefully preserv- 
ed. Christianity partook of the benefit, 
and from the zeal activity and number of 
its followers, it promises soon to be carri- 
ed over the whole earth, and embraced as 
the religion of all men. 

Such are a few of those particulars, which 
shew a providence to be exercised over 
the earth. It guides the material and ani- 
mal w r orlds. It is shewn in the nature of 
man, and his fitness for society ; in the go- 
vernment of states, and the fortunes of na- 
tions ; in the discovery of plots, and the de- 
struction of tyrants, in many characters of 
sacred wit, in the selection of the Jews, and 



Isaiah xlix. 23-- 



109 



continuance as a distinct people to this 
day ; in the planting of Christianity, and 
the favour which still attends it. 

Such events some may ascribe to chance, 
but what is chance but a name expressing 
our ignorance of what causes those events 
which we behold ; and were we to inquire, 
we would always be led to that great, in- 
tilligent, wise, and benevolent being, by 
whom a providence over the earth is exer- 
cised. 

He alone can bring about all the changes 
of nature. In every one of these his inter- 
ference is to be traced. His arm is every 
where stretched through the universe. It is 
to be discovered in the common scenes of 
life, as well as in the more sublime and aw- 
ful ; whether it be the lightning or the tem- 
pest ; the earthquake or the flood ; the fa- 
mine or pestilence. His footsteps are to be 
seen in the small current, as well as in the 
great waters ; in the music of the groves, as 
well as in the loud peals of thunder. 

In fact, the sense of a providence is for- 
ced upon the mind of man by every thing 
which he beholds, when seriously and im- 
partially considered. Its voice in the most 



110 

ordinary events may be small, but it is as 
certainly uttered, as in the most extraordi- 
nary. In short, this truth is not to be deni- 
ed, that the Lord God omnipotent reign- 
eth* 



* Rev. xix. 6. 



DISCOURSE VIII. 



ON A GENERAL PROVIDENCE. 

Matth. x. 29, 30, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing t 
and one of them shall not fall on the 
ground without your Father. But the 
very hairs of your head are all numbered, 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more 
value than many sparrows. 

The views of nature, man, society, and 
religion, given in the last discourse, can- 
not be doubted. If we carefully con- 
sider every part of creation, and mark the 
order in which events happen, our convic- 
tion of a providence will be irresis table. 

As the truth of aprovidence, then, cannot 
be questioned, we are next, according to 
the arrangement already proposed, to shew 



112 



what is to be understood, by a general 
providence. That term is susceptible of 
two meanings. Either it is used, because 
it comprehends every particular instance, 
about which a providence is exercised ; 
or, which seems rather to be intended, be- 
cause it operates in an orderly and uniform 
manner. 

Certainly, the course of the most com- 
mon events comes under the notion of a 
general providence ; those which salute our 
senses every day, which are placed around 
us every moment, and without which we 
cannot breathe, speak, or walk. 

We do not know, whether God's preserv- 
ing all things may be called a general provi- 
dence ; but, unquestionably, if they were 
not preserved, there could be nothing, 
about which a providence was exercised, 
by whatever name it was dignified, 

G od preserves all the things which he 
has created. Creation is the first act, 
and 'preservation, is the continuance, or 
repetition of that act. Without his pre- 
servation of things, they would fall into 
nothing. All this goodly frame, which we 
now behold, would vanish away, and, f like 



US 

the baseless fabric of a vision, leave not a 
rack behind." 

This act of providence we are ready to 
overlook. We find things placed around 
us, and seldom inquire how they are con- 
tinued in existence. After they have been 
created, we conclude, that they will re- 
main, without an effort to preserve them ; 
and that they cannot be reduced to noth- 
ing, without an act of resistless power. 

Reason and scripture, however, unite in 
proving, that God upholds them every mo- 
ment. The strength of his arm supports 
them. As they were called into being by 
his command, so they continue at his plea- 
sure. 

Such preservation is most interesting to 
living and reflecting beings. Their very 
existence depends upon it. They would 
perish altogether, if the sun and moon, 
the air and the light, the land and the wa- 
ter, were not the same, as when they start- 
ed into existence. 

God never exercises useless power ; and 
we cannot see any reason for his creating 
the universe, if he were not to preserve it. 
Without such preservation, it could not 
answer any purpose which he had in view. 



n 



114 



It would argue the mere wantonness of 
power, without shewing any mark of wis- 
dom. 

God, however, never acts in that man- 
ner. He is all- wise, as well as all-powerful ; 
and if he thought fit to create the universe, 
he also thinks fit to preserve it. We see 
that it is an excellent habitation for vege- 
tables and animals, and, are justified in be- 
lieving, that he created and preserves it 
for that purpose. 

This is a most important view of pro- 
vidence, claiming our deepest and most 
serious consideration, and convincing us, 
that he who exercises it is great and power- 
ful, attentive and condescending, generous 
and kind, gracious and merciful. 

After viewing God's preserving all 
things, we shall next notice what, for dis- 
tinctions sake, may be called his natural 
government of things. This, as well as the 
former view, deserves to be included un- 
der the term providence, whether it be 
called general or not. 

Some have rejected the term general, as 
applied to providence ; but if it expresses 
a fact, feature or quality of providence, 
which all observe, it may be retained. 



115 



Certainly we have constantly in our mouths, 
the scheme of providence, or that method 
which it invariably follows ; the plan of 
providence, or that manner in which it uni- 
formly acts. 

A general providence is that regular 
course of events, which we behold. It is 
that orderly revolution which the works 
of nature undergo. It is that common 
succession of changes, to which we and 
all things are subject. It is the ordinary 
acting of those laws, by which the universe 
is governed. 

Such laws have been called general, but 
we are not to forget, that there is one 
behind the curtain, who has established 
them. A law bespeaks a lawgiver, and 
general laws are only the modes accord- 
ing to which the Deity acts, They are 
only that course of events which he has 
appointed. 

That he has appointed them, is mani- 
fest from the skill and intention which they 
display. They are calculated to promote 
beneficial purposes. They have the good 
of sentient and rational beings in view. 
We know the truth of this remark from 
our own experience. 



3 



116 



The nature of this kind of providence 
will be better understood, if we illustrate 
our meaning by an instance or two. The 
sun has two revolutions. He rises and 
sets each day, and goes south and comes 
north each year ; producing the successive 
changes of light and darkness, summer and 
winter, seed time and harvest ; from which 
incalculable benefits accrue to ourselves, 
and the other animals of this globe ; by 
which the labours and comforts of both 
are promoted* The earth, to the surface 
of which they are confined, alternately 
loses and recovers strength and vigour for 
raising that produce, by which they are 
supported. 

All matter is subject to fixed and unal- 
terable laws, arising from the influence of 
different portions of it on one another. 
Such are the laws of gravitation and mo- 
tion, arising from the mutual influence of 
the planets and fixed stars. The most fa- 
miliar instance of this influence is a stone 
thrown from the hand. It moves forwards 
and downwards, or is drawn to the centre 
of the earth, whatever direction it takes. 

Vegetables and animals obey the laws 
of reproduction, growth and decay. These 



117 



have acted from the beginning of the world, 
and will doubtless act, while the world lasts. 
The individuals perish, but the race remains; 
and if this arrangement has never failed in 
a single instance, there is strong presump- 
tion, that it will never fail. If hitherto 
generations of men have succeeded one 
another ; we have every reason to think, 
that they will succeed one another, while 
sun and moon endure, woods grow and 
waters run, the winds blow and the rain 
descends. 

As in the course of life we must be 
young and old, as well as of full grown 
years; wonderful intention and skill are dis- 
covered in the management of these states. 
When young, we are active, lively, vigor- 
ous, and healthful ; and, by these qualities, 
we not only enjoy all the happiness suited 
to youth, but are prepared for that of 
manhood which is to follow. 

When this period arrives, we grow 
more thoughtful, and engage seriously in 
business ; contract a deep sense of inter- 
est, and endeavour to accumulate wealth; 
providing for ourselves, and those depend- 
ing upon us ; enjoying life with such as are 



118 



dear to our hearts, or necessary for our 
comfort. 

As manhood tends to wed us to the 
world and its joys, old-age, into which it 
verges, seasonably reminds us of our mor- 
tality ; and in a short time, our bodily 
frame, from the imperfections and ailments, 
to which it is liable, begins to give way, 
till at length it falls from around us, or 
dissolution takes place. 

This arrangement answers two great 
purposes. It puts an end to the miseries 
of the poor and unfortunate, under which 
they are ready to sink, and about which 
they are apt to complain ; and it divests the 
affluent and prosperous of advantages, 
which they are tempted to abuse or over- 
rate. 

Thus both classes of society are at the 
disposal of God, and go through those 
changes which he intends, whether happi- 
ness or misery be their portion. All the 
means are provided, and if these are ef- 
fectual, the history of one individual will 
apply to another, in any age of the world. 

After considering the natural govern- 
ment of God, we shall offer a few re- 
marks on what has been termed his moral 



119 



government, or the ordinary manner, in 
which his providence acts towards ration- 
al and accountable beings. 

This kind of government has been 
thought to be more imperfect than the 
other, but without sufficient reason. It 
may not be so easily comprehended, be- 
cause we do not see the whole of its ex- 
tent ; because it refers to the next world 
as well as the present ; but, undoubtedly, 
when its scheme is concluded, it will be 
as perfect as his natural government, and 
every way worthy of its author. 

The same general laws, as they are called, 
act in the one, as well as in the other. It 
is a frequent and emphatic remark, that 
virtue is its own reward. To reward it, 
is the natural tendency of things ; and it 
would always be rewarded, if this were not 
interrupted. 

Certainly it is rewarded, as far as our 
own satisfaction, and the impartial appro- 
bation of others are concerned ; and this is a 
reward of the purest kind, and will be en- 
joyed, whether worldly advantages follow 
or not. A merry heart arises from a 



120 



good conscience, and is justly represented 
as a continual feast* 

From the passions, prejudices, and mis- 
conceptions of men, however, the virtuous 
may experience trouble and uneasiness. 
The selfish, turbulent, and oppressive are 
often disposed, and cannot always be pre- 
vented from distressing them. 

To these evils must be added those 
which are inseparable from our present 
state. The difficulties, discouragements, and 
loses, to which the virtuous, as well as 
the vicious, are exposed, are innumerable. 
Disease, sorrow and pain, are often their 
only portion. 

The reward of good men, however, is 
chiefly in their own minds, and not in out- 
ward circumstances. These the bad often 
possess, to the exclusion of future recom- 
pence. Son, said Abraham to the rich 
sensualist in the parable, Remember that 
thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good 
things, and Lazarus evil things, hut now he 
is comforted and thou art tormented.-\ 



* Prov. xv. lo. 



f Luke xvi. 25. 



121 

This world, indeed, is not a place of hap- 
piness, but trial. It is a school of discip- 
line, but not a region of delight. Pleasure 
it does give, but not unaccompanied with 
pain, it gives enough for contentment, 
but not for reward. It is fitted to be 
a resting place, during a journey, but not a 
home for an heir of immortality. 

The chief reward of a good man is the 
favour of God, the effects of which may be 
felt in this world, and they will be amply 
experienced in the next ; and till we shall 
be brought to the next world, we are not 
competent to judge of this part of God's 
moral government. 

All that we have said about virtue, may 
be applied to vice. When thoroughly un- 
derstood, it will be found to injure our 
comforts, character, and fortune. In 
these respects, it is a punishment; and, 
to punish it, is the direct tendency of 
things. 

Vicious men cannot have the entire ap- 
probation of their own minds. They are 
not even thoroughly approved by men of 
their own principles ; and as to the virtu- 
ous, they pity or despise them. Fools and 



U2 



knaves, flatterers and sycophants, only 
give them approbation. 

On this account they cannot readily ob- 
tain the advantages of the world. All that 
know them will decline converse and deal- 
ings with them ; and, when in their power, 
refuse to help them to honourable or lu- 
crative employments. They are not the 
persons to whom they would wish to trust 
the disposal of their fortune, or the edu- 
cation of their children, when they are 
about to die. 

As from our ignorance, negligence, ca- 
price, or corruption ; or their presumption, 
diligence, influence, or bribery ; they may 
be raised to high situations, acquire im- 
mense riches, and command extensive re- 
sources ; we cannot say, that, in their case, 
baseness avarice and oppression are suffi- 
ciently discountenanced in this world. 

We must see, therefore, what befalls 
them in the next, before we can pro- 
nounce on the government of God con- 
cerning them ; and, when that time comes, 
we firmly believe, that what is now want- 
ing will be completed. Vice will be pun- 
ished, as well as virtue rewarded. The bad 



12S 



will suffer misery, as well as the good en- 
joy happiness. 

Such then is a general providence, or 
that system of things going on around us. 
It is a scheme, the progress of which is ne- 
ver broken. Its stream, like that of time, 
never ceases. It is that never-failing su- 
perintendence, which reaches every crea- 
ture, and controuls every event. 

It began, when the world was created ; 
and it will end, when it is destroyed. It 
is the history of universal nature, as con- 
ducted by its Maker. It includes an ac- 
count of matter and mind, of vegetables ani- 
mals and men, as far as God controuls and 
directs them. 

It is an undeniable truth, then, that 
God exercises a general providence over 
the earth. He is executing his work, 
whether we forget him or not. Sleeping 
or waking, he supports us. In him we 
live, and move, and have our being* 



Acts xvn. 28. 



DISCOURSE IX. 



ON A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. 

Matth. x. 29, 30, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? 
and one of them shall not fall on the 
ground ivithout your Father. But the 
very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore^ ye are of more 
value than many spawows. 

The exercise of a providence, whether 
general or particular, may be considered as 
a course of events, controuled by God, to 
answer some important purpose. However 
uniform the course of nature may be, he is 
always to be viewed, as conducting it to a 
certain end. 

The laws of nature we are always to con- 
sider as the acts of providence, and how- 
ever, from their regular and orderly re volu- 



126 

tion, they may be denominated acts of a 
general providence ; yet they refer to God, 
and are as much his work, as the acts of a 
particular providence. 

He never neglects any part of the uni- 
verse, or abandons it to chance. He 
takes care every moment, that every 
thing, which he has made, fill the place al- 
loted to it, and answer his intention. The 
case of sparrows, and numbering the hairs 
of our heads, are specific and direct in- 
stances. 

To a particular providence we are now to 
direct our attention, and it is a sub- 
ject very interesting to men, though their 
ideas of it have not always been accurate. 
Some, who maintain a general providence, 
denying a particular ; and those who main- 
tain a particular, denying a general provi- 
dence. 

Though we do not reckon the distinc- 
tion very material, yet we contend for what 
is called a particular providence, because 
we believe it to be true in philosophy, 
and important in religion ; the very ground 
of our joy and comfort, our faith and hope. 

That it may be more clearly perceived, 
what we mean by a particular providence; 



127 



we shall first consider it as it applies to mat- 
ter, and then as it applies to mind. In 
regard to matter, a particular providence 
may be explained by miracles. 

Some indeed restrict the term particular 
providence to miracles, and not without 
cause ; for though they may be as much 
included in the general plan of providence, 
as the most ordinary events, yet, in regard 
to us, they seem contrary to that plan. 

Now what is contrary to the common 
course of nature excites wonder. On that 
account it is called a miracle, and has been 
defined a suspension or alteration of a law 
of nature. If the sun should stand still, if 
a blind man, at the will of another, should 
recover his sight, or the dead rise from 
their graves, they would be miracles, or as 
we may now call them, instances of a 
particular providence. 

That such may happen, no wise man 
will deny. If God has some purpose to 
answer, he will interfere with what is nam- 
ed his general providence ; and this inter- 
ference men will behold with astonish- 
ment, though it may soon be forgotten. 

Of this kind are all the miracles recorded 
in the Old Testament, particularly the mi- 



us 



racles of Moses, the most remarkable of 
which were the plagues brought upon 
Pharoah and the Egyptians, for detaining 
the Israelites in their country, contrary to 
the will of Jehovah. 

Of the same kind are the miracles of our 
Lord, recorded in the New Testament, and 
also those of his apostles and first disciples. 
These are the greatest which the world 
ever witnessed, and have been much at- 
tended to, as the direct and principal proofs 
of that religion which Christ founded. 

Many other miracles have been pretend- 
ed, but are not well authenticated. Most 
of them indeed may be reckoned fabulous, 
or stories invented to serve a particular 
purpose, — the credit or the interest, the 
power or aggrandisement of the inventors. 

On these grounds selfish and unprin- 
cipled people will pretend to work mira- 
cles, and from the weakness and credulity 
of mankind, be believed. The grossest 
and most audacious imposters always get 
followers. Their maxim is : If the people 
will be deceived, let them be deceived. 

Such miracles cannot be admitted in 
explanation of a particular providence. 
They are not wanted for such a purpose. 



129 

It will be sufficient to quote those genu- 
ine miracles, which we have mentioned. 
They are most satisfactory in proving this 
doctrine, and lead impartial observers to 
believe it. 

In a religious point of view, such a be- 
lief is of great importance. It gives rise to 
the obligation of duty. We could not with 
any propriety worship or praise God, if 
there were not a providence. Prayer, trust, 
and obedience, would be needless. We 
would be nearly in the same state, as if 
God did not exist. 

Enough, however, has been said on this 
head, to explain the nature of a particu- 
lar providence. As far as the force of mi- 
racles can go, the true notion of it must 
be understood. 

We come next to explain a particular 
providence, as far as regards mind, or the 
actions of free agents. 

Inanimate beings obey the laws of na- 
ture, but men and animals act from choice ; 
that is, they are endowed with a principle 
of self-motion, and act as their wants, pro- 
pensities, and inclinations dictate. 

Irrational animals are not mere ma- 
chines. They are not governed by im- 



130 



pulse, like a clod or a stone. They have 
a will of their own, and if they com- 
monly obey others, they do so from con- 
straint, or in consequence of superior pow- 
er. 

Men, in particular, are guided by their 
own sense of things. All their actions 
are ordered by themselves. Their own 
minds are the centre from which they pro- 
ceed, and to which they are to be referred. 

Their minds, however, are influenced by 
motives. They have either a reason for or 
against every action. They would not be 
rational beings, if they acted otherwise. 
They could not rightly be said to form any 
scheme, or engage in any pursuit, unless 
they had a purpose to answer. 

Even men, as well as other animals, are 
wrought upon by outward objects. They 
are much swayed by the impressions which 
they receive. They are not indifferent to 
the things around them, nor independent 
of their power, however they resist it. 

This power God makes use of in 
governing men, as well as of their sus- 
ceptibility to pleasure and pain, joy and 
sorrow, hope and fear, curiosity and indo- 



131 



lence, activity and love of variety, inter- 
est and fame, and other affections. 

Nor are these the only means which he 
uses. He over-rules and directs men by 
methods, which we are unable to explain, 
and which it is of no consequence for us 
to know. All reasonable men will allow, 
that the fact may be true, though the man- 
ner, in which it comes to pass, may be un- 
known. 

Some have supposed the exercise of a 
particular providence, inconsistent with the 
foreknowledge of God and the free agency 
of man ; but we cannot see in what this 
inconsistency lies. Such points may be dif- 
ficult to reconcile, but they are not more 
difficult than many problems in philoso- 
phy ; and, if we will be guided by scripture, 
we will believe, that they perfectly har- 
monise. - 

To save the foreknowledge of God, many 
have represented the actions of men as 
necessary, though we are firmly convinced, 
that such a representation runs in the teeth 
of religion and morals, feeds the passions, 
and subdues the reason ; takes away all 
accountableness, and destroys all virtue. 

3 



1818 



We thus give our voice against the ne- 
cessity of human actions, because we think 
it a most pernicious doctrine, as far as the 
conduct of life is concerned. It may 
please the unprincipled and depraved, be- 
cause it seems to free them from those 
virtuous restraints, to which they are 
averse ; and afford a plausible excuse for 
indulging in those vices, to which they 
are prone ; but it tends to annihilate the 
moral character of God, and the account- 
able nature of man. 

However true it may be thought, ab- 
stractedly considered ; man is conscious of 
his freedom, and law and government al- 
ways consider him as free. It would be 
altogether superfluous, to prescribe to him 
any course of conduct, if he were inslaved; 
and exceedingly cruel, to punish him for 
what he could not help. 

It is not true that the foreknowledge of 
God renders the actions of men necessary. 
It has just the same relation to them as fu- 
ture, which it has to them as past. God 
knows them, but they are not influenced 
by his knowledge ; and if they be necessary, 
the circumstance must be owing to some 
other thing, than foreknowledge. 



133 



Some indeed deny the foreknowledge of 
God, as far as free agents are concerned. 
They urge that their actions cannot be 
foreknown by the most perfect being, be- 
cause they are arbitrary, depend on cir- 
cumstances, not yet in existence ; or a- 
rise from freaks or fits of caprice, which 
prevail at the moment. 

Such an objection is of little weight. 
God is so superior to us, and so perfect, that 
he foresees how men will act in every given 
case ; and what shews the accuracy of his 
foresight, he makes the fulfilment of his 
schemes to result from their actions ; and 
this constitutes the very essence of a pro- 
vidence. 

They to be sure neither know nor intend 
such a matter ; and it is not necessary to 
inform them, as it is not their business 
to act upon it. They are to act, according 
to the laws of reason and conscience, in 
their own little sphere, but it is the care 
of God, to make their actions subservient 
to purposes beyond it. 

The manner in which God controuls 
and directs men, must be peculiar. 
No thinking man can bring himself to 
believe, that the rule of providence, 



134 



when restricted to mind, will be the 
same, as when restricted to matter. It 
must vary according to the nature and 
character of those beings, over whom it is 
exercised. 

If we understood the providence of God, 
as applied to mind, as well as we under- 
stand it, when applied to matter, it would 
appear to be equally, if not more perfect ; 
and the more successful we are in our in- 
quiries into this subject, the more readily 
will we concur in this conclusion. 

Men are endowed with principles, which 
suppose a power of deciding for them- 
selves, and placed in circumstances, in 
which these principles are called into ac- 
tion ; and providence will be exercised, 
according to the nature and state of men ; 
or if it were not, it would not deserve the 
name. The nature and state of men 
would be forgot altogether. 

Even one man differs from another, in 
constitution and situation ; and this dif- 
ference must be in the eye of God, in all 
his actings towards him. He would other- 
wise be treated, as what he was not. In 
other words, the providence of God, which 
is perfect in fitting the most insignificant 



135 



insect with proper limbs for the functions, 
which it has to discharge ; would neglect 
the proper treatment of a reasonable mind, 
when called to act its part in the world ; 
which is an incongruity not to be imput- 
ed to his providence. 

Such considerations will enable us to 
understand, how God governs us, as christi- 
ans. Such government is carried on by 
his word and spirit. Both undoubtedly 
unite their influence in this affair. They 
inform the understanding, and move 
the heart. They quicken the judgment, 
and invigorate the will. They instil good 
principles, cherish good dispositions, and 
strengthen good resolutions. They teach 
caution, and stir up fear. They awaken 
trust and inspire hope. They represent 
our chief danger, and true interest. On all 
occasions, they suggest suitable and effec- 
tual motives. 

The operations of the Spirit may be 
more difficult to understand, than the in- 
fluences of the word. He is said to be a 
monitor, a helper, and a comforter; though 
the manner in which he executes these 
offices may be obscure ; and it is our busi- 
ness rather to believe the fact, than explain 



136 



it. We are not to doubt of the success of 
his undertaking, though we may not 
comprehend, how he succeeds. It is the 
doctrine of our Lord, that the wind blow- 
eth where it listeth, and thou hear est the 
sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it 
cometh, and whither it goeth ; so is every 
one that is born of the spirit. 

Thus does the providence of God ex- 
tend to all the actions of men ; and these 
he controuls and directs, as well as the 
more ordinary events. However remote 
they may be in futurity, whenever they 
take place, they come under his manage- 
ment ; and he will manage them, for his 
glory and our good. 

Such is a very faint idea of the provi- 
dence of God, exercised towards men. 
Though self energies have been given 
them, he does not give up his right of 
overruling and controuling these energies. 
They act under his eye in every situation, 
and he knows perfectly, how they will act. 
Whether they act wisely or foolishly, is 
their own concern ; but, on either suppo- 
sition his providence is perfect. 

Many objections have been made by 
forward and conceited men to the doctrine 



137 



of a providence, whether it be called gene- 
ral or particular ; but as these objections 
militate against religion in general, we 
would be entering on too wide a field, 
were we to answer them here ; not to 
mention, that we have answered them, in 
some discourses on the goodness of God, 
which cannot have a place in this volume. 

Though these objections may embarrass 
the superficial and inconsiderate thinker ; 
yet no sensible and sagacious man can be 
hindered one moment from embracing 
the doctrine of a providence. They are 
light as a feather, when weighed in the 
balance, against the arguments for this doc- 
trine. 

It is not indeed to be expected, that 
we can explain every act of providence. 
We are too limited in capacity, to be equal 
to this task. We cannot enter into those 
ideas which direct the Divine Mind in the 
exercise of his providence. We see but a 
very small portion of his works, and he 
that made and preserves the universe, 
knows best how to govern it. 

We can never think of his providence, 
however exercised, without admiration and 
astonishment. He causes the vapours to as- 



138 

eend, covers the heavens with clouds, and 
prepares rain for the earth ; darts forth the 
lightning, and brings the wind out of his 
treasures ; fetches water to the hills above, 
and sends springs to the vallies below; 
cheers us with the rays of the sun, during the 
day, and lays us on the bed of rest, when the 
sun retires, during the night ; opens our 
minds to the knowledge of himself from a 
survey of his works, and teaches us to de- 
light in acknowledging his dominion, and 
obeying his will ; shews us the path to 
true perfection, and prompts us to walk in 
it, from the prospect of endless happiness. 

The plan of providence, as now explain- 
ed, is noble and beautiful. Whenever it 
is duly considered, it fills the mind with 
sentiments of exultation and praise. It 
is the most comfortable doctrine ever 
taught to mortals ; and the assurance of 
it is most gratifying. The Lord reigneth, 
let the earth rejoice, and the multitude of the 
isles be glad * 

The most able and satisfactory account of a general and particular pro- 
vidence, with which we are acquainted, has been given by Woolaston 
in the religion of nature delineated. See Ed. 1759, page. 171. 



* Psalms xcvii. 1. 



DISCOURSE X. 



ON THE SATISFACTION WHICH THE 
CONTEMPLATION OF PROVIDENCE 
GIVES TO A GOOD MAN. 

Matth. x. 29, SO, 31. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? 
and one of them shall not fall on the 
ground without your Father. But the 
very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more 
value than many sparrows. 

This passage is of great moment, as it 
is fruitful of instruction in religion ; and 
most worthy of attention, as it affords a 
high encouragement to duty. 

This is indeed the use to which our 
Lord applies it. Fear not, ye are of more 
value than many sparrows. God was deep- 
ly concerned in the happiness of christians, 



140 



and would promote it, if they did not give 
way to mistrust, and fail in obedience ; 
whatever were the threats or injuries of 
their enemies. 

There cannot be a greater satisfaction 
to good men than the contemplation of a 
providence, whether general or particular, 
exercised over the earth ; and this is the 
fourth particular to which I am come in 
the course of the arrangement. 

This world would be a forlorn and com- 
fortless state indeed, if no providence was 
exercised over it. We might well wonder 
how we existed, or for what purpose ; 
what could be our use, or whether we 
were of any use ; whether there was an 
end of us at death, or we were to live af- 
ter it. 

All events would be under the controul 
of a blind and uncertain chance, which 
would equally disregard the good and 
the bad ; which could neither free from 
misery, or bestow happiness. Like a 
ship without a steersman, the universe 
would be tossed to and fro in the ocean 
of space, at the mercy of wind and tide, 
without port or harbour. 



141 



That this is the case no serious man can 
believe. He cannot attend one instant to 
the things around him, without discern- 
ing their regularity and order; without 
feeling their beauty and usefulness. The 
wisdom and design, which they discover, 
constantly remind him, from whom they 
arose, and by whom they are supported. 

Should he suppose that God made this 
earth, but left it to the possession and con- 
troul of men ; the matter would not be 
much mended, We would be subjected 
to the caprice and violence, to the inso- 
lencies and injuries of beings, many of 
whom are known to be without principle 
or pity, without shame or remorse. 

That however is not the case with this 
earth, or any part of nature. The universe 
is under the superintendance of God. He 
takes care of it every moment. He exer- 
cises a dominion over it, for the benefit of 
man, and other sentient and intelligent be- 
ings. 

The nobleness of this work evinces its 
author. It is carried on by the greatest 
of beings. It is the exertion of his noblest 
attributes. It is the display of the highest 



142 



perfections. It is the constant exercise of 
power, wisdom, and goodness. 

If we believe in a God, we believe him to 
be invested with these attributes ; and if 
he is invested with these attributes, they 
cannot be dormant and unoccupied ; and 
when they act, a providence is exercised. 

It is quite clear, that a providence sup- 
poses the exercise of power, uncontroulable, 
indeed, and unequalled ; and to which all 
other powers must submit, whether exercis- 
ed by man or angel. 

On this ground providence is often 
equivalent to government. God is often 
called the governor of the world. He is 
often spoken of, under the idea of a king 
or sovereign ; and he is said to reign, or 
sway the sceptre oi the universe. 

The government, which God exercises 
over the universe, is truly sublime. We 
cannot appreciate all its grandeur. It is 
beyond human ingenuity to determine. 
The psalmist calls it a great deep or abyss, 
which we cannot fathom. 

He controuls all nature, as his peculiar 
province. He directs all its parts, as a 
master, and takes care, that his orders be 
obeyed. The heathen may rage, and the 



143 



people imagine a vain thing ; but he that sits 
in the heavens shall laugh, the Lord shall 
have them in derision * 

Whatever his adversaries may do, all 
his purposes shall be answered. They 
shall even assist in realizing his designs. 
In spite of their power cunning or diligence, 
they shall be the instruments of executing 
his intentions. 

This superintendance of God cannot be 
viewed without reverence. We are so 
deeply concerned in it, that we must stand 
in awe. When it is said of God, that he is 
the governor among the nations ; that he 
has established his throne in the heavens ; 
that his empire extendeth over all ; that 
his sway is omnipotent, and of consequence 
resistless ; we must tremble and adore. 

The guilty indeed must be exceedingly 
alarmed ; those that have been thoughtless, 
or negligent ; refractory, or disobedient ; 
presumptuous in wickedness and daring. 
Whenever they bethink themselves of their 
safety, they must be at a loss, w r hither to 
fly, or where to hide their heads. 



* Psal. ii. 3, 4. 



144 



To the bad and impious, indeed, the idea 
of a providence must be extremely discour- 
aging. It must fill them with terror and 
dismay. They must ever consider the Al- 
mighty, as ready to pour out his vengeance 
upon them ; as determined to make them 
drink the cup of his wrath. They must 
construe all calamities and distresses into 
displays of indignation at their crimes, and 
foretastes of retribution for their vices. 

Happy will it be for them, if they take 
warning, and resolve betimes to consi- 
der their ways, to relinquish their courses, 
to repent of their iniquities, to forsake their 
sins, to learn righteousness, to conform to 
the will of God, and delight in his service. 
The case is urgent, and concern for their 
future happiness tells them not to delay. 

To such duty the absolute government 
of God persuades the careless and worldly- 
minded, the vicious and the impious, the 
impenitent and the hardened, if they will 
save their souls on the day of trial, or be 
freed from guilt at the reckoning of the last 
judgment. 

To beings so frail as men, so exposed to 
temptation, so ready to fall, so depraved 
and corrupted; the absolute government of 



145 



God must be a source of terror. One so un- 
limited in power must cause the most aw- 
ful alarm, and we are some times amazed, 
that a thinking man can go to his bed, or 
wake from sleep, without distraction and 
despair. 

Enlightened reflections, however, tend 
to cure this anguish. When we consider, 
that the infinite power of God is under 
the direction of infinite goodness ; that 
his vast resources are only employed to 
protect and shelter, to restore and make 
happy ; our spirits rise and our hopes 
brighten. 

This effect will be increased, if the sway 
of infinite wisdom is taken into the account. 
This attribute, while it tempers his tre- 
mendous power, controuls his unbounded 
goodness ; and by this means he is render- 
ed, not more venerable than lovely, not 
more magnificent than attracting. 

While the w r ord government rather ex- 
presses the exercise of power, that of pro- 
vidence expresses the exercise of wisdom 
and goodness. In its strict and direct ac- 
ceptation, it signifies foresight, and in this 
sense, refers to that care, which God takes 
of animal beings, especially man. 

K 



146 



Not that he interferes in his affairs to 
the detriment of other creatures. Such 
interference would savour of injustice ; a 
defect with which God cannot be charged. 
All these share his care, and in this consists 
the perfection of his providence. 

While others are not neglected, men are 
attended to. Things are so constituted, 
as to promote their well-being. By the 
ordinary course of events, their wants are 
supplied, and their comforts consulted; 
their usefulness secured, and the end of 
their being answered. 

The subserviency of all things to animal 
and rational existence has suggested the 
use of the term providence. God is view- 
ed as a provider as one who attends to the 
comforts, and relieves the wants, of his sen- 
sient and intelligent offspring. On him 
they rely, for whatever they need or de- 
sire ; and he is considered as constantly 
superintending their affairs, and doing good 
to them every moment of their lives. In 
the language of the Psalmist, the eyes of all 
tilings wait upon him, and he gives them 
their food in due season. He opens his hand 



147 



liberally ) and satisfies the desire of every 
living thing. 

These ideas, which have suggested the 
term providence, are most delightful and 
refreshing ; representing Deity in the most 
amiable light and naturally exciting our 
affection and regard. We discern him to 
be the friend arid benefactor of those liv- 
ing beings, whom he has made and pre- 
serves. 

Even the word government, which is 
chiefly expressive of power, is to be ex- 
plained in a similar way ; though the ex- 
ercise of it strikes with more awe. He 
protects and favours those over whom 
he presides. In the height of his great- 
ness, he remembers mercy. While invest- 
ed with the most absolute sway, Ms ten- 
der concern is not laid aside. While aw- 
ful in majesty, he is rich in kindness. 

This sense of providence is most en- 
couraging, and ought to be well consider- 
ed, that we may know our real situation, 
be convinced of the benefits which God 
bestows, and induced to act in a manner 
the most expressive of our gratitude. 

The conviction of providence, exercised 
over the world, is a source of the truest 



3 



148 



consolation. It teaches us, that we are 
under the care of the greatest, the strong- 
est, the wisest, and the best of beings. 
Nothing can befall us without his appoint- 
ment ; and every appointment displays be- 
nevolent designs. 

There is not the least ground for dissa- 
tisfaction with his providence. Whether 
it be our lot to spend our days, where 
the sun gilds Indian mountains, or flames 
on the xltlantic isles ; to have our habita- 
tion in the frozen or torrid tracts of the 
earth ; there God is present, and his influ- 
ence felt. # If we ascend into heaven, he is 
there; if we make our bed in the land of dark- 
ness, he is there ; if we take the wings of 
the morning, and dwell in the utter most parts 
of the sea, there his eye will find us, and his 
light hand guide us.-f 

We have no occasion to despair in any 
situation. When the blackest disasters 
assail us, when our hearts have been pierc- 
ed through with the arrows of affliction, 
when the shafts of calumny have been flying 
thick on every hand, when we are poor, 
deserted, and forlorn ; it is our hope and 



* See Hymn to the Seasons. 



•f Psalm exxix. 8. 



149 



trust, that there is a God in the heavens, 
who attends to the things on the earth ; 
who will not leave us in the greatest need, 
or throw us off in the sorest trouble. 

If we have correct ideas of the gospel of 
Christ, if we understand the nature of our 
present situation, if we believe in a future 
existence, and are convinced that the 
righteous will be happy, and the wicked 
miserable ; we will see good reasons for 
the calamities, to which we are now sub- 
jected, and be persuaded, that however un- 
favourable our circumstances may be, 
they shall in the end conspire to our good. 
With the apostle we shall be enabled to 
say, that our light affliction, which is but 
for a moment; shall work for as a far 
more exceeding, even an eternal weight of 
glory. 

Nay, in the assurance which we have of 
this great truth, we exclaim with the psal- 
mist, Though we walk through the valley of 
the shadow of death, we will fear no evil ; 
For thou, O Lord, art with as. Thy rod 
and staff] they comfort as. We are the sheep 
of thy pasture, and during the noontide 
heats, thou leadest us beside the still wa- 
ters ; and when the hurricane or the ene- 



150 



my comes, thou surroundest us with the 
arms of thy protection. 

As called to the service of God, then, 
let us summon up strength, and do our 
utmost. We see what encouragement we 
have to persevere in the right path, to be 
diligent in our christian calling, to be stead- 
fast in the tvork of the Lord ; and let us 
not fail in duty. Let us not abandon our 
best hopes. Let us not betray our truest 
interests. 

The sum of the matter is, that we 
should steadily do, what our consciences 
approve, what all good men recommend, 
and what God has prescribed in his word. 
As we are to be tried at the last day, and 
happiness or misery will be the result of 
the trial, let us ever act as in our Maker's 
eye, and spend every hour of our life, 
as we could wish it had been spent, when 
we come to die. 



DISCOURSE XI. 



ON THE DUTY OF ATTENDING TO AND 
OBSERVING THE COURSE OF 
PROVIDENCE. 

Matth. x. 29, 80, 31. 

Jlre not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? 
and one of them shall not fall on the 
ground without your Father. But the 
very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
Fear ye not therefore ye are of more 
value than many sparrows. 

If there is so much satisfaction to a good 
man in contemplating providence, as we 
saw in the last discourse, we will contri- 
bute greatly to that satisfaction, if we at- 
tend to and observe it, if we make it our 
study while we live. 

The scheme of providence is carrying on 
around us, and one would think, that it 



152 



would draw our frequent notice ; that we 
could not be indifferent, when a system 
was revolving, in which the greatest attri- 
butes of God are displayed, and the best 
interests of men promoted. 

However strange the circumstance may 
be, it is perfectly certain, that we often 
overlook it, often disregard those astonish- 
ing events, which it brings about ; and 
even with the strongest proofs staring us 
in the face, sometimes doubt whether there 
is a providence or not. 

A certain portion of sagacity is requir- 
ed to the study of providence ; a natural 
quickness in discovering, how events are 
related to one another, and conspire to 
make out a system, such as that to which 
we give this title. 

Something like a religious spirit also is 
necessary. God must be considered as 
the possessor of heaven and earth; as 
reigning over men, and designing them for 
happiness ; as training them up in this 
world, th^t they may be fit inhabitants of 
the next. 

In discoursing on this concluding branch 
of the subject, we shall explain the duty 
of attending to the course of providence, 



153 



and state the reasons which should prompt 
us to observe it. 

Surely, if we are endowed with reason 
and reflection ; if we are capable of mak- 
ing observations on surrounding nature, 
if we can trace effects to their cause, and 
discern God to be the author of all the 
events which we behold ; we will not ne- 
glect the exercise of such talents. 

As long as our faculties are sound and 
vigorous, we are called upon to attend to 
what is before us ; we are invited to ob- 
serve what changes are going on around 
us ; we are led to inquire what is the na- 
ture of that system, of which we are a 
part, as well as other creatures. 

Are we to shut our eyes, then, when 
placed in the midst of such a system ? Are 
we to pay no attention, when an affair of 
such grandeur addresses our senses ? are 
we stupidly to stare, and not attempt to 
understand, what is so magnificent ? are 
we to go in and come out, lie down and 
rise up, as if there was no such thing as a 
providence exercised over the universe ? 

It is not to be doubted, that this indif- 
ference is very wrong, and very dangerous. 
Heaven will not excuse such indolence. It 



154 



will sharply reprove our want of curiosity, 
and severely punish our inattention. 

There is a great advantage in the dis- 
charge of such a duty, and if we neglect 
it ; we will be acting against our own hon- 
our, and diminishing our own satisfaction ; 
we w T ill be throwing an obstacle in the way 
of the noblest improvement, as well as 
shutting our ears against the most impor- 
tant information. 

The course of providence has a mean- 
ing. It speaks a language not obscure or 
unintelligible. The attainment of it is 
level to every capacity, and opens a door 
to the most valuable knowledge. 

This language was designed by God for 
the use of men. In whatever age they 
live, or in whatever district they reside, 
they are required to hearken and know. 
With that intent, the direction of his pro- 
vidence has gone out through all the earthy 
and its ivords to the end of the world* 

Though the characters of this language 
are very plain, and easy to be understood ; 
though they solicit our attention every 



* Fsal xix. 4. 



155 



moment, and we cannot open our eyes 
without beholding them ; yet from a spi- 
rit of carelessness we often know them very 
little. 

We ought therefore to awaken out of 
sleep, and direct the vigour of our minds 
to the appearances of nature. We should 
perceive the course of events going on in 
the world. It is not right, that what is so 
superior and useful, should be unobserved. 

Providence is the most comprehensive 
work of God. It includes creation as well 
as redemption. Creation is its beginning, 
and redemption its most important act ; 
and what can we consider, if it is not the 
providence of God ? 

Over it are scattered the clearest traces 
of Deity, and these we cannot miss, if we 
use our eyes. He has left every where 
the prints of his feet, and these cannot 
escape our search. They will obtrude 
themselves on our notice, to whatever part 
of nature we direct our attention ; and 
from what we see in the surrounding uni- 
verse, we will be convinced of his eternal 
power and Godhead, when other arguments 
cannot reach us, The heavens declare the 



156 



glory of God, and the firmament sheweth 
forth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth 
speech, and night after night publisheth 
knowledge. 

When we discover the greatness and 
power of God, displayed in providence ; 
when we contemplate him standing alone 
in excellence, possessing a being which no 
other possesses, and employed about works 
which no other can controul and direct, 
and by whom alone they are upheld every 
moment ; we will fear and tremble. 

If, however, we turn to the other side of 
his character, we will discern him to be 
wise and good, and therefore a fit object 
of love and gratitude, worthy to be admir- 
ed, as well as imitated. Whoso is wise and 
observeth these things, he shall understand 
the loving kindness of the Lord. The marks 
of his wisdom, as well as goodness, are im- 
pressed on all his works, and will be notic- 
ed by the studious and devout. 

Even providence itself will be better un- 
derstood. We will become acquainted with 
its nature and intentions, its character and 
use. We will perceive it, as extending to 
a part, or the whole of the universe ; to 



157 



dead matter, or to living beings ; to our 
present, as well as future state. 

The will of God is intimated by the 
course of providence. Here his purposes 
are discovered ; whether they relate to 
other beings, or ourselves ; whom he has 
made reasonable and accountable, and 
placed in the present state, for the trial of 
our skill, and exercise of our virtue. 

While we see our dependence upon God, 
we will acknowledge his friendly and fa- 
therly care ; his desire of our instruction, 
and improvement; our comfort and hap- 
piness. His purposes toward us are truly 
benevolent, and promoted by his provi- 
dence. 

The support, which his providence has 
given to our religion, proves the truth of 
these remarks. It has engrossed his care, 
since the beginning of time, and still en- 
grosses it. All events have been made to 
conspire to its success, however the cir- 
cumstance may be overlooked. 

If the Jews had attended to the course 
of providence, they would have been more 
able to judge of its intentions in their day, 
and prompted to support its views ; to re- 



158 



ceive the Messiah whom it favoured, and 
forward the cause in which he was engag- 
ed ; but from their strong prejudices and 
vile passions, they could not discern the 
signs of the times. 

On this ground they were reprobated by 
our Lord, and with the greatest justice. 
Though he gave the clearest proofs of his 
being the Messiah, yet they could not make 
the discovery. Though he wrought mi- 
racles, and uttered prophecies, as displays 
of his divine mission ; yet their under- 
standings were so blinded by party spirit, 
and their hearts hardened by personal ha« 
tred, that they could not perceive in Jesus 
of Nazareth the being, who was to redeem 
Israel. From wilful or infatuated obsti- 
nacy, they did not know the day of their 
merciful visitation. 

We are apt to run into the same error, 
in observing providence. So much do we 
deceive ourselves in this matter, that we 
always see its events through the spectacles 
of our feelings and opinions, and always 
imagine that it seconds our petty jealousies 
and quarrels, and promotes our narrow 
purposes and views. 



159 



From such a spirit we firmly believe, 
that it is never on the side of our enemies, 
and interpret into judgments those natu- 
ral calamities, which happen equally to all 
men, and blasphemously suppose, that it is 
the instrument of our spite and malignity, 
and a party to our little and despicable 
concerns. 

While we wonder at the dexterity of men, 
in perverting the meaning of providence ; 
we must condemn their presumption, in 
identifying their affairs with its schemes. 
We are not thus to observe providence. 
We are not thus to bespatter the filth 
of our passions, or the venom of our pre- 
judices, on the sublime and beautiful, the 
impartial and benevolent measures of the 
Almighty. 

We are to bring enlightened minds and 
unbiased hearts to the study of providence. 
With the deepest veneration for the great 
being that exercises it, and a spirit willing 
to enter into the extensiveness of its views ; 
we are to explain every fact in that man- 
ner, which shall reflect glory on his attri- 
butes. 



160 



We should be careful to understand it, 
as a method of teaching his will. We can- 
not obey his law as there expressed, if we 
are not earnest in finding it out ; and it will 
not be difficult to find out, if we meditate 
upon it, as oft as our avocations allow. 

Such meditation is exceedingly pleasing 
to pious men. They go out to the fields, 
stroll up the side of the brook, or roam 
along the edge of the wood ; gaze at the 
high mountain, or saunter down the low 
valley ; mindful of him who presides over 
the ordinary, as well as the sublimest ap- 
pearances ; who orders and superintends 
the calm scenes of life, as well as " rides 
on the whirlwind and directs the storm !" 

Our task will not always be of a confin- 
ed nature. The whole surface of creation 
will attract our notice. The utmost ex- 
tent of the universe will engage our stu- 
dy. Great will be the advantage of such 
enlarged ideas. While we ponder on the 
stupendous fabric, we will be enabled to 
judge better of the laws of providence, 
whether they daily act, or incidentally oc- 
cur. 



161 



This will have the happiest effect on the 
temper. This will purify and correct our 
principles. This will prepare our minds 
for every noble and becoming exercise. 
This will induce us to live as persons un- 
der the eye of God, and constantly taken 
care of by his providence. 

No one can question this result. For 
when the head is filled with true know- 
ledge, it is most likely that the heart will 
be suitably influenced, and the life proper- 
ly directed. Just and true principles al- 
ways give rise to wise and becoming prac- 
tices. Enlightened views of providence 
always lead to a right conduct in time, 
and a steady preparation for eternity. 

Let us direct our attention then to the 
great scheme of providence moving on, 
and hastening to its completion. Let us 
consider it as carrying us towards the eter- 
nal world, when the righteous shall be 
made happy, and the wicked miserable; 
when the purposes of God shall be accom- 
plished, and his perfections glorified. 



DISCOURSE XII. 



ON THE RISE, NATURE AND USE OF 
THE FEAR OF GOD. 



Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Sure- 
ly the fear of God is not in this place ; and 
they will slay me for my wife's sake. 

On account of the licentiousness of the 
times, in which the patriarch Abraham 
lived, and the irreligious habits of the 
Canaanites, among whom he sojourned ; 
on going into the kingdom of Gerar, he 
deemed it prudent to give out, that Sarah 
was not his wife, but his sister. On the 
faith of this account, Abimilech, the king 
of Gerar, took her to his house, but, by the 



3 



164 



interference of God, was prevented from 
injuring her. When he saw into what a 
snare he had been drawn by the dissimula- 
tion of Abraham, he naturally demanded 
an apology for his conduct ; and this 
apology is contained in the words, at the 
head of this discourse. 

As the fear of God is thought to be such 
a security for life and its comforts, it must 
be interesting to every one, and well 
merits a careful consideration* In dis- 
coursing upon it, we shall point out its 
rise, nature, and use ; illustrate its great in- 
fluence on the temper and conduct ; shew 
the insufficiency of some schemes which 
the ignorant and presumptuous would sub- 
stitute in its place, notice how it has been 
abused, and then suggest hints for its re- 
gulation and improvement. 

We return to the first head of the 
method, which is to point out the rise, na- 
ture and use of the fear of God. 

Fear is an emotion, which rises in the 
mind of man. when he thinks of another 
being more powerful than himself, who is 
capable of hurting him, can deprive him of 
his liberty, or take away his life. This 
emotion is intended to direct him to the 



165 



means, by which his safety may be secured, 
and by which he may be fortified against 
alarm, and placed beyond the reach of dan- 
ger. It is therefore a principle to him of 
incalculable benefit. 

The proper object of fear is that great 
being, who made, preserves, and governs 
the universe ; on whom w-e depend, and to 
whom w r e are accountable for our actions ; 
by whom we are to be judged at the last 
day, and doomed to the most exquisite hap- 
piness, or unutterable misery. 

This being is infinitely superior to every 
other. He controuls all the elements, 
weikls the whole artillery of the atmos- 
phere, clothes the skies in terror, strikes the 
cliffs from the rocks, and heaves the ocean 
from its bed. His sovereignty is announc- 
ed by the storm and the flood, by the thun- 
der and the earthquake. 

Such appearances men interpret into 
judgments. The rumour, or even the sus- 
picion of these, is a scourge to the guilty. 
They think his countenance to be terrible 
and his eye piercing. They believe that his 
justice never sleeps, and that the wicked 
cannot be secure ; that the rebellious will 
not prosper, and at length be ruined. 



166 



To them, therefore, the contemplation 
of God must cause the most serious alarm. 
When they recollect the relation in which 
they stand to him, they must tremble at 
the result of his measures. He must be 
the author of evil to them, unless they 
repent. He must punish them for their 
transgression of his law, if they do not re- 
form. He cannot allow them to go on in 
wickedness, without making them feel the 
weight of his indignation. 

The obstinate and impenitent, then, 
have great occasion to fear. They are 
against heaven, and heaven will be against 
them. They are daring its power, and 
provoking its enmity ; and what else can 
they expect ? 

Hence they will be apt to entertain 
wrong ideas of God. They will look upon 
him, as the cause of their misfortunes, as 
the enemy of their happiness, as furnished 
with power for their destruction, as full 
of harshness and rigour, as easily provok- 
ed and difficult to appease. 

Their fear of him, therefore, will dege- 
nerate into terror, and resemble that of 
evil spirits, who are said to tremble while 
they believe ; or that which captives have 



167 



for a conqueror, or slaves for a master ; 
a passion of dark and disagreeable features, 
and reigning with full sway in abject and 
superstitious minds. 

Those, who are actuated by this fear, 
will submit to God, because submission is 
unavoidable. A being, whom they cannot 
controul, has authority over them ; and they 
feel aversion, instead of attachment. They 
hate, but cannot love. 

To this kind of fear, we ought never to 
yield. It is a dishonour to God, and a 
discredit to ourselves. It overwhelms and 
debases the mind of him whom it directs. 
He never acts with spirit, or betrays any 
sense of his importance. He is open to 
every kind of insult, and trampled upon 
by the arrogant and overbearing. 

The fear of him which we ought to 
cherish, has nothing servile or degrading. 
It highly becomes us, and we can never 
think of it without approbation. It hinders 
no joy, which we ought to entertain. What- 
ever dissatisfaction it causes, reason justi- 
fies. 

This fear does not exclude just rever- 
ence of God. It allows the utmost vene- 
ration for his exalted pei'fections. It re- 



168 



gards him as the greatest of beings, as hav- 
ing no rival, as unlimited in power, as con- 
trouling all events, as the king eternal, im- 
mortal, and invisible. 

While it supposes the character of God 
to be so magnificent, it views him as su- 
premely good, as truly beneficent, as de- 
lighting in the happiness of his creatures, 
as using means, to relieve them from want 
and sorrow ; as sending Christ, to save 
them from sin guilt and misery. 

in such persons the fear of God is ex- 
cited by mercy as well as majesty. It is awe 
joined with love. It is respect mixed with 
gratitude. It is the most rational fear of him 
which we can entertain. It is a principle 
truly noble, highly becoming, and well suit- 
ed to the dignity and graciousness of that 
being, who is its object. 

This fear of God is best, represented by 
that which a son has for a father. Though 
a son trembles at the frown of his father, 
and dreads to offend him ; yet he loves and 
respects him, as he believes that he has the 
tenderest affection for him, and knows him 
to be the reliever of his wants, and the 
protector of his weakness. 



169 



Even so, while the truly virtuous man 
views God, as the only uncreated being 
in the universe, as the independent sove- 
reign of the world, as that uncontroulable 
agent to whom all others submit ; he looks 
upon him as the author of his existence, 
the supporter of his life, and fountain of 
his happiness ; as the bearer of his infir- 
mities, and pardoner of his transgressions ; 
and will he not honour him, while he 
stands in awe ? will he not be attracted 
towards him, while he is humbled in his 
presence ? 

This is the fear of him, which we ought 
earnestly to encourage, and constantly to 
cherish. It is that profound respect, which 
w r e owe to our Creator and Preserver, our 
Governor and Judge; that high homage 
which is due from weak and sinful beings 
to one so exalted in perfection, and unri- 
valled in excellence. 

As we believe that he is the greatest, 
the strongest, and the justest of beings, 
however noble, good and merciful he may 
be ; and that he has the absolute disposal 
of us, and we can no where escape from 
his presence and authority ; the fear of him 



170 



is connected with our peace, our interest, 
our safety, and even our existence. 

It is impossible therefore to conceive a 
principle more strong, one which more 
fully occupies the mind, or absorbs the at- 
tention. It is the fear of the sovereign 
of nature, and the arbiter of our fate ; of 
him that can do us the greatest good or evil 
in the world. 

It would require to be strong, on ac- 
count of the purposes which it has to ful- 
fil. It is intended to be the guardian of 
the temper and conduct of men ; to pre- 
vent extravagance of any sort, which may 
be offensive to God, hurtful to our neigh- 
bours, or disgraceful to ourselves. 

But strong as the fear of God is, it can- 
not be effectual, unless it be habitual. To 
answer its end, it must be superior to every 
other principle. It must possess the em- 
pire of the heart, before it can have the 
controul of the life. When its sovereignty 
is allowed, its commands will be obeyed. 

We must think often on the greatness 
and power of Deity. We must be con- 
versant with the eternal himself, who 
dwells in the place of thunder, and directs 
the red lightning of heaven ; who makes 



171 



darkness his secret place *, and whose pavilion 
round about him are dark waters, and thick 
clouds of the sky. The glories of his attri- 
butes we must often recollect. 

Such recollection is due to his transcen- 
dent excellence, and wonderful works. 
This is that obeisance of soul, which he 
exacts of those whom he has made, pre-* 
serves, and governs. This is that humilia-* 
tion of mind, which sinful and dependent 
beings ought to feel in the presence of 
their Benefactor and Lord. 

To have no fear of God is the mark of a 
perverse and wicked disposition, of one who 
is rash and thoughtless, who has stifled the 
best principles of his nature, is far gone 
in profligacy, has lost all sense of character, 
and is in a manner indifferent to his own 
happiness. 

On the contrary, the man who fears 
God from right motives, is a grave and 
worthy character, one that is highly res- 
pected, and can be fully trusted ; who ob- 
serves the laws of morality, and disdains to 
injure society ; who knows his own dig- 
nity, and values true enjoyment. 

We ought carefully then to cherish this 
principle. We ought earnestly to resort 



172 



to every mean, by which it may be strength- 
ened. We ought often to place the great 
God himself before our eyes. While we 
stand in awe, we should try to think of him 
with love. 

To remember him whom we fear may 
not be a pleasant, but it is certainly a ne- 
cessary task. If we forget him, we will 
forget ourselves. We will occasionally be 
petulant and rude. We will sometimes be 
daring and outrageous. We will sin with- 
out restraint, and follow vicious courses 
wherever thev lead ; and if we are so in- 
fatuated, we will never stop till our ruin 
be complete. 

To make this task more agreeable, we 
ought to view him as our reconciled Fa- 
ther in Christ; as delighting in mercy, while 
he adheres to justice ; as wishing the sal- 
vation of all men, while he punishes the 
guilty ; as wise in the contrivance of his 
measures, and strict in the execution of his 
laws ; as long suffering and kind, while all 
nature bends to his nod, and his will is not 
to be disputed. 

This is the character of him which is 
given in the gospel. This is the notion 
of him, which we ought to entertain ; and 



173 



if we conceive of him in this manner, we 
will fear him indeed, but we will love him 
also. 

That we should cultivate this principle 
is unquestioned. God is to be feared in the 
assembly of the saints, and held in reverence 
by all that approach him. Whether in the 
church, or in the world; whether when sur- 
rounding a communion table, or discharg- 
ing ordinary duties; he is never to be 
thought of without awe, nor spoken of with- 
out reverence. 

As this fear is the soul of all religious 
service, it is much recommended in scrip- 
ture ; especially in the Old Testament. 
Serve the Lord with fear, says the Psalmist, 
and rejoice with trembling. Thus also does 
he address the Almighty : There is for- 
giveness with thee that thou mayest be fear- 
ed; and again, His salvation is nigh to them 
that fear him. 

It is much to be lamented that this 
fear is so much neglected amongst us. 
From the minds of some it is effaced alto- 
gether. The character which the Psalmist 
gives of bad men is, that the fear of God 
is not before their eyes ; and this character, 
we are afraid, may be applied to many, 



174 



who not only profess obedience to his laws, 
but even address him in the solemn acts of 
devotion. 

Certainly, there are two classes of men, 
who do not cultivate this fear, whatever 
they pretend ; those who give a false 
oath before a court of justice, and those 
who persist in vulgar or common swear- 
ing. 

As to him that swears a false oath, or per- 
jures himself, the truth of the remark is 
evident. He appeals to God himself for 
the truth of w T hat he says, and imprecates 
his vengeance, if he be telling an untruth. 
Had he any fear, or even belief of God, 
w r ould he thus doom himself to destruction ? 
would he thus stake the safety of his soul, 
upon the truth of his declaration, w T hen he 
knows all the while that it is false ? 

As to vulgar or common swearing, it 
can never consist with the principle in 
question. Though the person guilty of 
this vice has been created by God, though 
he is supported by him every moment, and 
gets from him every blessing, whether of a 
temporal or spiritual nature, whether re- 
lating to this world or the next ; yet he 
boldly and wantonly uses the greatest fa- 



175 



miliarity with his name, interlards all his 
discourse with it, and profanes it every 
time that he opens his mouth. He dail- 
lv insults his truest friend, and best 
benefactor, without one substantial reason 
for the outrage. Never was there an abuse 
so foolish, so uncalled for, so daring as this. 

Both vices are to be reprobated. They 
discover a most depraved heart, as well as 
perverted understanding ; and these are 
qualities, which all religion must condemn. 
In the Old Testament we are command- 
ed, not to take the name of God in vain, 
for God ivill not hold them guiltless that 
taketh his name in vain ; and in the New 
this is the express injunction of our Lord : 
Ye have heard, says he, that it hath been 
said by them of old time : Thou shalt not 
foreswear thyself but shall perform unto the 
Lord thine oaths. But I say unto you : 
Swear not at all : Neither by heaven ; for 
it is God's throne : Nor by the earth ; for 
it is his footstool : Neither by Jerusalem ; 
for it is the city of the great King : Nei- 
ther shalt thou swear by thy head ; because 
thou canst not make one hair white or black. 
But let your communication be Yea, yea, 



Nay, nay ; for ivhatsoever is more than 
these cometh qfeviL 

Will we then set the pleasure of the 
Almighty at defiance, and let all the world 
know, that we neither regard his favour, 
nor dread his power ? such a conduct shows 
an utter want of piety, whatever arrogance it 
may discover ; a strange indifference about 
our duties, however loud may be our pro- 
fessions. This is precisely the manner of 
God's pretended servants of old; Who 
honoured him with their lips, while their 
hearts were far from him^ 



DISCOURSE XIII 



ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE FEAR OF GOD 
ON THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT 
OF MEN. 



Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Sure- 
ly the fear of God is not in this place ; and 
they ivill slay me for my wife's sake. 

Fear, we have seen, arises in the mind, 
from contemplating that great and power- 
ful being, who made and governs the world, 
and whom we are bound to please and 
obey, but whom unfortunately we often 
offend and disregard. 

It is the object of this fear to cherish such 
dispositions, and prompt to such actions 
as promise to procure the favour of God, 
and incline him to make us happy. 

M 



178 



In the following discourse we shall en- 
deavour to shew T in w hat manner it acts as a 
principle of virtuous obedience; anditchief- 
ly does so, by its great influence on the 
temper and conduct of men This influ- 
ence may be viewed in three lights, and 
first, it is a state of mind favourable to vir- 
tue. 

It directs the mind of him that is under 
its influence to the Maker of the universe, 
and sinks him into insignificance and no- 
thing, compared w r ith his transcendant per- 
fections. It represents him as sitting on the 
circle of the heavens, and the inhabitants 
of the earth as grasshoppers. It tells us 
the breath of our nostrils is in his hands ; 
and as he gave, so he can take away life, at 
his pleasure. 

While it thus predominates in the mind, 
it puts to flight every inclination to sin, 
begets a temper allied to righteousness, 
and prepares a soil in which the virtues 
spring up and flourish. If the seed of in- 
struction is now sown, it will take root, 
and with diligent culture, and, under the 
sunshine of divine assistance, it will 
come to maturity. The cares of a world- 
lv spirit will not chock it, neither will it 



179 



fail through thinness of earth, but bear at 
harvest an abundant crop. 

Such is the natural result of this princi- 
ple. It induces a seriousness and solem- 
nity of mind, leading to thought and re- 
flexion. It banishes all levity and careless- 
ness of spirit. It suppresses every rougher 
and more boisterous passion. It produces 
true humility, and forcibly recalls a sense 
of our dependence and accountableness. 

No doubt, if bad men feel it strongly, 
it will be apt to pass into horror. In that 
case it awakens distraction despair and 
anguish ; antl this state may be viewed as 
a foretaste of that suffering, which is to be 
their portion hereafter. 

Not so the man destitute of this princi- 
ple. Indifferent to every thing but his 
own gratification, he indulges in every vice. 
The awe, which others have of the divine 
being, is no restraint upon him. He is 
hurried on to whatever his heart desires, 
without regard to consequences. Disa- 
vowing all concern about religion, he con- 
sults his own pleasure and interest. To 
the wishes and happiness of others he pays 
no attention. He slights the laws of so- 
ciety, which others hold sacred, and denies 



3 



180 



himself no pleasure, however criminal, 
when his safety is not endangered. 

Very different are the sentiments of the 
religious man. The greatest and most in- 
dependent of beings is present to his 
mind, and he attends to himself and his 
actions. He knows that the Omnipo- 
tent sees every part of his conduct, 
and can do with him as he pleases ; and 
he cannot be rash in offending him. While 
he adores his perfections, he is careful to 
keep his commandments. He cannot look 
up to him with confidence, and yet be guil- 
ty of disobedience. The feat of his pow- 
er and rebellion against his authority are 
incompatible. Reverence for greatness and 
love of goodness are kindred principles. 

Is not this state of mind, then, favour- 
able to virtue ? Does it not kindle up 
pious sentiments and holy resolutions ? 
Will it not give rise to every kind of good- 
ness, likely to promote the honour of God 
or improvement of men ? 

But secondly, the fear of God affords a 
powerful motive to the performance of 
duty. 

This fear has its seat in the heart, and 
we cannot sin securely, and yet be under 



181 



its influence. It represents our incorrupti- 
ble judge as always present, and not to be 
deceived ; and whenever we disobey his 
will, we behold him calling up vengeance, 
and ready to overwhelm us. We believe 
that he inspects all our goings, and that 
he scrutinises all our actions ; and there- 
fore we can never be at ease, w 7 hen w r e break 
any of his laws. 

In vain do men labour to conceal from 
his notice the indulgence of any improper 
passion or favourite vice. Conscience de- 
clares that he perceives it clearly ; and that 
he is determined to punish it, if not repent- 
ed of and forsaken. It suggests that he hates 
all unrighteousness, and that he will most 
certainly call to an account the workers of 
iniquity ; and can they promise to them- 
selves any quiet or safety in opposing his 
will? 

When we think of the Almighty in 
this manner, we strongly picture to our- 
selves the terrors of futurity. When the 
supreme being is viewed as constantly 
watching over us, and ready to punish our 
offences, we greatly dread the result in the 
world to come. When the misery reserved 
for the wicked is judged infinitely to coun- 



182 



ter-balance the gratifications of sin, we shew 
the most egregious folly, if we coolly and de- 
liberately part with our eternal interests 
for its temporary pleasures. 

Many contrivances vicious men may use, 
to check the terrors of retribution, and 
occasionally succeed ; but as often they 
fail ; and when the mischief of persist- 
ing in vice is strongly conceived; they 
will have no rest till they return to the 
paths of virtue. The lose of peace of mind 
can be compensated by no indulgence reck- 
oned unlawful. 

If the heart at all yield to discipline, 
it must be by a sense of religion. If the 
temper and passions be kept within 
bounds, it must be by recollecting that 
being, who governs the world, and is to 
judge the actions of men, with the strict- 
est truth, and without respect of persons. 

Whoever fears God must consider him 
as present. He must believe that he be- 
holds him every moment ; that he pries 
into all corners, and finds out all secrets ; 
that the hearts and lives of men are 
spread out before him, as in open day. 

The fear of God in discouraging vice is 
peculiarly strong. We all know what a 



I 



188 

motive to diligence in a servant is the awe 
of a master ; what a check upon the levity 
and wantonness of a child is the frown of 
a parent ; and can we suppose that reli- 
gion will be less strong, or its efficacy over 
the heart less prevailing ? 

If men were truly wise, there w r ould be 
no need of this principle to controul them. 
Duty and interest are always connected ; 
but in many cases this connection is not 
obvious. We often neglect duty from 
mistaken views of interest, and a blind 
ungovernable love of present enjoyment. 
The pleasure, that obtrudes upon us at the 
moment, is often preferred to the good that 
is placed at a distance, though infinitely 
superior. Reason may give a different ad- 
vice, but to this we are not always dis- 
posed to listen. 

Superadd the power of religion, and a 
new direction will be given to our con- 
duct. Our sense of duty is then support- 
ed by a principle stronger than itself. Our 
conscience is great, but God is greater 
than our conscience. The reproofs of con- 
science may be hard to bear ; but it is 
harder still, to be under terror of punish- 



1*4 



ment from that being, to whom the con- 
science is subject. 

We see, therefore, how essential the 
fear of God is to a life of virtuous obedi- 
ence ; how powerfully it moves the un- 
derstanding, and influences the heart ; how 
forcibly it urges the regular discharge of 
duty ; how mightily it rouses up our efforts 
to surmount the difficulties, that lie in 
the way to perfection. 

The fear of God is indeed a strong re- 
straint upon all vice, as well as strong en- 
couragement to all virtue. It kindles in 
our breasts a zeal for all goodness, and 
cools our inclination to what is contrary 
to the divine will. 

If the fear of God, then, be such a, 
strong and important principle ; if it 
sieze the whole soul, and controul every 
faculty ; loudly must we be called upon to 
awaken and cherish, to strengthen and 
preserve it. Whilst acting in this man- 
ner, it will keep our hearts from wandering 
and our feet from falling It will give life 
and vigour to every duty. 

Lastly, the fear of God greatly weakens 
the power of temptation. 



185 



In the world temptations to vice a- 
bouncl. These often appear in the most 
agreeable and alluring form, and we can 
hardly withstand their influence. They 
draw our hearts after them, and in an un- 
guarded moment we submit to their sway. 
Even when convinced of the mischief of 
such facility of spirit, we can hardly over- 
come it. Often when a gratification is in 
our power, we are resolved to perish rather 
than lose it. 

Any one, who has lived long in the 
world, will have experienced the truth of 
this remark. When his passions are rous- 
ed up, and their gratification is in his pow- 
er, he can seldom repel the temptation. 
He is desperate at the moment, and de- 
termined to run all hazards. He will re- 
nounce happiness and comfort for ever, 
rather than forego the pleasure. 

Now against the force of temptation re- 
ligious fear is an excellent defence. Can 
I do this great wickedness and sin against 
God? is the language which it utters. Tt 
strongly paints the danger of every sin. It 
infuses a poison into the sweetest joy 
arising from it, and saddens the spirits 
every time that we reflect. We know 



186 



ourselves to be entirely in the power 
of God ; and if we do wrong, we are 
persuaded, that without a full pardon 
through Christ, we are exposed to his 
wrath. He has not only the times and 
seasons, but all futurity at his disposal ; 
and at no period of our existence can w r e 
be free from his controul, or beyond his 
jurisdiction. He is the guardian of righte- 
ousness ; and whoever transgresses his law 
has a secret conviction, that he will be pun- 
ished ; and he often suffers great uneasi- 
ness from the thought of such punish- 
ment. 

This bitterness of soul, which the fear 
of God mixes with unlawful pleasures, is a 
great bar to their enjoyment. They en- 
tice in vain, if the agony to which it some- 
times gives rise, is strongly recollected. 
No gratification whatever is like peace of 
mind, and were we only to consider the 
horrors, which sin sometimes causes, we 
would summon up all our strength, and all 
the aid, which heaven promises, in order 
to avoid it. 

Religious fear, therefore, when proper- 
ly acting upon the mind, is the best bar- 
rier against temptation. When exerting 



187 



itself with full power, it covers with scor- 
pions that sin, which otherwise would be 
most delightful. It conjures up spirits 
of darkness in every scene of enjoyment, 
which conscience condemns. It peoples all 
the territories and haunts of vice, with 
demons of hell, ready to break out, and 
tear to pieces the wretch that is betrayed 
unto them. 

Fortunate is he, who is struck with 
such horror, when hankering after sinful 
compliances. Greatly benefited is he, who 
is delivered from vice, by the thought 
of such misery. He will not degrade his 
nature by extravagant and irregular con- 
duct. He will not endanger his happi- 
ness, by following courses which must in- 
fallibly destroy it. He will not stir up the 
wrath of God against him, by acting in 
direct opposition to his will Every thing 
will be done to secure his favour. The 
intention of his existence will never be 
neglected. 

Thus you see what a powerful principle 
in morals is the fear of God, and how much 
it keeps the heart from going astray. So 
strong a stimulant, applied to the soul of 
man, prevents great errors of conduct. He, 



188 



who lives under the awe of an invisible 
judge, cannot go into wrong courses with 
indifference. He who wishes not to offend 
his Maker, will be anxious to cherish those 
dispositions, and form those habits, which 
he is certain will please him. 

If the fear of God gives this turn to the 
character, ought it not to be more attended 
to ? Ought we not to reverence God in our 
hearts, and honour him in our lives ? Ought 
we not to meditate on his nature and per- 
fections ? Ought we not to consider him 
as the rewarder of those that do well, and 
punisher of those that do evil ? 

Let us recollect that he is present with 
us at all times, and we will both know and 
fear him. Let us consider that wo are ac- 
countable to him, and piety will be the pre- 
vailing principle of our minds. Surely we 
are all aware of the importance of a religi- 
ous life. If we live without God, we shall 
live without hope in the world ; but if, 
whatever we do, he be in our thoughts, we 
will be comfortable in time, and happy 
through eternity. 



DISCOURSE XIV 



ON THE WEAKNESS AND INSUFFICIENCY OF 
REASON AND HONOUR, AS SUBSTITUTES 
FOR THE FEAR OF GOD. 



Gen* xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Sure- 
ty the fear of God is not in this place; and 
they will slay me for my wife's sake. 

It has been a very general persuasion of 
mankind, that the good order and happi- 
ness of society could not subsist without 
religion. Even its bitterest enemies have 
been forced to admit this fact, though they 
would account for it from different prin- 
ciples. 

This way of accounting for the good 
order and happiness of society, has arisen 
in the progress of philosophical specula- 



190 



tion, from the vanity of dogmatising on 
every thing that attracts attention, but es- 
pecially religion, in which all men are so 
deeply interested. From arrogance and 
self-conceit, they have thrust forward their 
own crude and undigested ideas, and think 
to overturn what the wisdom of ages has 
countenanced and sanctioned. 

The mischief of such a spirit is, that it 
is apt to mislead the unwary. When they 
hear of such opinions, they eagerly grasp 
at them, because they seem to free them 
from the obligations of duty, and leave 
them at full liberty to follow their own 
inclinations. 

On that account we ought to be ex- 
ceedingly jealous of such opinions. It is 
ten to one but they are wrong, when we 
are so exceedingly fond of them ; and the 
utmost care and caution must be used, 
that we may not be deceived. 

A sense of religion is common to all 
men. The acknowledgment and worship 
of God have prevailed in every age and 
country. The ancient and modern, the 
civilized and barbarous, the enslaved and 
the free, have been convinced of his exist- 
ence, and paid him homage. 



191 



But however universal a sense of reli- 
gion may have been, pretended and half- 
informed philosophers have ventured to 
set up schemes of their own in its place. 
All those which have been proposed, 
we shall not consider. It will answer all 
the ends which we have in view, if we 
shew the weakness and insufficiency of 
those, which seem to be the most plausi- 
ble, and which probably their supporters 
think to be unanswerable. 

Now the first which w r e shall mention 
is reason. On this principle as a substi- 
tute for religion many have insisted, and 
we certainly think that it has some pre- 
tensions, though much fewer than its vo- 
taries suppose. 

No doubt it has a very imposing ap- 
pearance. Reason is the boasted preroga- 
tive of human beings. The rational and 
irrational tribes are the classes in this low- 
er world, into which animals, — men on the 
one hand, and brutes on the other — are 
commonly divided. 

We willingly allow the excellence and 
superiority of man to the other ani- 
mals ; and in few instances are this excel- 
lence and superiority more discernable than 



19a 



in the possession and use of reason. This 
gives dignity and influence to his charac- 
ter. This ennobles his understanding, ag- 
grandises his conceptions, and elevates his 
views. 

Still, however, reason is not the exclu- 
sive prerogative of man. It is shared to 
a certain extent with the other animals. 
They are not mere organised machines. 
They have minds of a certain kind, in 
which a surprising sagacity occasionally 
appears. They have memory, imagination 
and judgment, though these faculties are 
more imperfect than those of man. 

But let reason in man be ever so super- 
eminent. Let it be of that high order 
which his pride wishes it to be. Does 
he always yield to its sway ? Is he always 
guided by its dictates ? Does he never 
wander from its path ? Does he never lose 
sight of its direction ? This is the point 
to be decided. 

No doubt it was planted in his breast 
that it might teach him how to act. Un- 
questionably it was intended to be a can- 
dle within him, that it might shine on 
the path in which he was to go ; but is 



193 



not its my often dark ? Is not its light of> 
ten quenched ? 

It cannot be denied, that while left to 
the faint glimmerings of reason, and travel- 
ling on through the dim twilight of un- 
certainty and error, we make many a false 
step, and run into many a forbidden 
tract, by which our progress is interrupted, 
and our comfort diminished. 

If men were carefully to act by reason, 
they would never do wrong. They would 
always do what they ought to do, and re- 
frain from doing what they ought not. 
They would always respect the rights of 
their fellow r creatures, and be guilty of no 
injury, violence, or injustice. 

Let reason direct, and there will be no- 
thing but decency, honesty, and truth in 
the world. Men will be perfectly inno- 
cent, and live as brethren. The golden age 
will be returned, and the state of paradise 
restored. 

But can we lay our hands on our breasts 
and say, that this is the case? Are not 
men the greatest enemies of men ? Do 
not nations wage war against nations ? Do 
not the strongest try to oppress and even 
exterminate the weakest ? Have they not 

N 



194 



descended to the practices of savage ani- 
mals, and devoured one another ? If rea- 
son, as now possessed by man, were his on- 
ly guide, he would long ago have been de- 
stroyed from the earth. 

Reason, such as it ought to be, has its 
existence no where, but in the imaginations 
of projectors and sophists, — men who would 
be thought wiser than their neighbours, 
and are too proud to be instructed ; who 
are not sensible of the frailty of man, and 
the exceeding feebleness of his best facul- 
ties. 

When talking of reason, we are not to 
judge from theory, but the actual state 
of society. Look into this state, and say 
impartially what it is. After a careful ex- 
amination, does it not often appear a scene 
of folly and knavery, outrage and oppres- 
sion ? Is not reason's voice drowned a- 
midst the uproar havoc and confusion, go- 
ing on in the world ? or if it is heard, 
is it not as the slave or apologist of pas- 
sion ? 

Every man, to be sure, is endowed with 
reason, otherwise he would not be a man ; 
but he is also acted upon by passion, and 
though he may not always be sensible of 



195 



his own weakness, yet he is much more con- 
trouled by passion than reason. His im- 
perious propensities and strong habits are 
too often a match for his discretion. He 
is often compelled to submit to princi- 
ples which ought to obey, however contrary 
such submission may be to his better judg- 
ment. 

Can reason, then, independent of any 
other principle, guide the conduct of men, 
and preserve the order and happiness of so- 
ciety ? Will it rule and controul in every 
situation, in which we may be placed ? 
Will rebellion against its authority never 
be stirred up, and the throne, on which it 
ought to sit, never usurped ? 

If it can so seldom retain its superiori- 
ty among the other powers of the mind, 
is it not desirable, that some other prin- 
ciple could be found, which had more 
strength, and to which men were more 
subject ; one that would tell them in all 
cases what to do, and not suffer itself to be 
disobeyed ? 

Such a principle is the fear of God. It 
will prevent a man from a crime, when rea- 
son will not. The most wicked cannot 
rise above its power, when a sense of guilt 



3 



196 

is awakened. They feel themselves amen- 
able to a being, who made reason and every 
faculty, which they possess ; and who has 
their future fortunes completely at his 
command. 

With what propriety then can reason be 
made to supersede the fear of God ? While 
this fear is retained, the affairs of the 
world are bad enough, but they would 
be infinitely worse, if it were discard- 
ed. That God, on whom we depend, would 
not be acknowledged, and every man would 
do that which was right in his ow r n eyes. 

Besides reason the arrogant and self-con- 
ceited would substitute honour, instead of 
the fear of God. 

Honour is the idol of the polite and 
fashionable world. In many respects it is a 
good principle ; but it has been excessively 
abused. Like every thing excellent, the term 
hasbeen grossly misapplied. There isacoun- 
terfeit honour, very different from the ge- 
nuine, w r hich has many claimants, but no 
value. 

Real honour is that principle which, in 
noble minds, prevents a base or a mean ac- 
tion ; which always disposes a man to con- 
sider, what is due to his own dignity and 



197 



character, and what is due to the situation 
and character of others. 

A high value is to be put on honour, 
when of a right quality. When proper- 
ly considered and acted upon, it is of an 
exalted nature. He that is guided by it 
never acts unworthily. He will keep his 
word, and be true to his promise. He 
will scorn to take advantage of another. 
He will not desert the cause, which he has 
undertaken to support. He will sooner 
perish, than betray his friend, or injure the 
innocent. 

The man of true honour and true reli- 
gion are ever the same. The course of 
life, supported by the one, is also support- 
ed by the other. Though different streams, 
they run to the same point. They have 
the same object in view, and propose to 
themselves the same end. 

Genuine honour is always a concomitant 
of a great and well constructed mind. 
Though he that is swayed by it may show 
the kindest and gentlest manners in pri- 
vate life, yet, on great occasions, he acts 
with the most heroic resolution and deter- 
mined courage. His soul is the seat of 



198 



grandeur, and his whole conduct a dis- 
play of nobility. 

Nay, we will go farther and say, that in 
some it is the ruling principle, and were 
others to be influenced by it in the same 
degree, it would preserve the harmony 
and good order of society, though a sense 
of religion were not known and acknow- 
ledged. 

It is much to be regretted that this 
principle is not widely diffused ; that all 
men do not feel its force, nor yield to its 
influence ; that it is not set at the head 
of their actions, and seldom consulted, 
when interest is to be pursued, or passion 
gratified. 

We are forced to confess, however un- 
willingly, that with many it is a rare com- 
modity. We are even afraid, that it is so lit- 
tle felt or understood by the mass of man- 
kind, that they may be said to want it al- 
together. Certainly it is much less uni- 
versal than a sense of religion. 

Even in those, who think they possess 
this jewel, it is so liable to be mistaken, 
perverted, or corrupted, that it cannot be 
trusted, as the bulwark of social order or 
happiness. It often fares with honour as 



199 



it does with religion. Many pretend to 
the name, but few have the reality. 

Persons of this character can robe the un- 
protected of their innocence, without scru- 
ple ; betray a trust, which is not likely to 
be detected, with the utmost readiness ; 
violate every law of friendship, gratitude, 
and hospitality, with the greatest coolness; 
blaspheme their Maker, and break his com- 
mands, without the least consideration. 

We like the principle well, when it is 
genuine, and in that case no wise man 
will cry it down. We love to see it in an 
acquaintance or friend, and are persuad- 
ed, that there can be no worthy character 
without it. In our idea, it goes to the 
formation of a finished gentleman ; one 
who reveres God, and is interested about 
men ; one who is the protector of the help- 
less and shield of the innocent ; the admir- 
er of excellence, wherever it is to be found ; 
and the adorer of truth, in whatever garb 
it appears. 

In the same proportion, however, we 
detest its counterfeit, as a principle that 
plays a part, and wishes to deceive; 
that lies in wait to betray, and under 
false colours intends to ruin and destroy. 



200 



Such a principle can only dwell in the 
breast of him, that is a stranger to every 
thing grand and noble, and fit only to be 
employed in the most unmanly and revolt- 
ing transactions. 

The honour of these persons may lead 
to things excellent ; but then it is built 
on a false foundation, and directed by car 
price, or the fashion of the class in socie- 
ty, to which they belong ; not by any of the 
higher principles of our nature, whether 
moral or religious. It is a principle, in 
which the worst of men would be thought 
to excel, but, as far as it is genuine, they 
are w r ofully defective. 

Can such honour as this deserve any se- 
rious man's notice, unless to condemn it ? 
Can it compete with the fear of God, or be 
mentioned with it in one day ? Religion 
abhors such an associate, and no wise man 
will offer to put it up in her place. In- 
stead of bringing it forward, he will do 
every thing in his power to keep it out 
of view. 

From the train of thought now suggest- 
ed, then, every one must see, that hon- 
our, even when understood in its most un- 



201 



exceptionable sense, and much more, when 
merely its shadow, and agreeing only with 
it in name, can with no propriety be made 
to supersede the fear of God, the homage 
of the Almighty, that acknowledgment 
and veneration, due to the Creator Pre^ 
server and Governor of men. 

To fear God is indeed the dictate of 
honour ; and we cannot have this princi- 
ple, if we do not regard him as what he 
is, our Creator Preserver and Governor ; 
and ourselves as what we are, his crea- 
tures and servants ; as one, from whom we 
receive all our comforts, and in whom are 
fixed all our hopes. 

It may therefore be justly said, that 
true honour can only belong to the religi- 
ous man, him that cultivates the higher 
principles of his nature, the acknowledg- 
ment of a God, and obedience to his will ; 
the love of mankind, and the advancement 
of their interests ; a strong sense of all his 
duties, whether they lead him to the re- 
straint of his passions, or the government 
of his actions. 

If this account of honour be true, it will 
deserve the consideration of those who 



202 



are so devoted to this principle, that they 
despise religion in comparison ; and more 
especially those who would banish the fear of 
God out of the world, that honour may 
occupy its place. For though their inten- 
tions may be allowed to be right ; yet their 
judgment cannot be denied to be wrong. 



DISCOURSE XV. 



ON THE WEAKNESS AND INSUFFICIENCY 
OF BENEVOLENCE, AND POLITICAL 
INSTITUTIONS, AS SUBSTITUTES 
FOR THE FEAR OF GOD. 

Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Sure- 
ly the fear of God is not in this place ; and 
they tvill slay me for my wife's sake. 

The understandings of some men are 
restless, and ill directed. They shew a 
disposition to call in question received opi- 
nions, and have their own way of explain- 
ing them. Generally they so manage thp 
matter, as to excuse their own frailties, and 
gratify their own propensities, 



204 



Fear, for instance, naturally rises in the 
mind from believing a God, and the belief 
of God is almost universal. Some, how- 
ever, take it upon them to doubt the 
soundness of this belief, or at least to 
shew that the fear arising from it, is un- 
necessary ; and that every purpose, which 
it may be thought to serve, will be answered 
as well by certain schemes of their own, 
which they presume to name, and bring 
forward as its substitutes. 

We have already noticed reason and 
honour, as two of these schemes, and shewn, 
that they are ill qualified to support the 
views of those, who have set them up in 
its place ; being neither so strong, nor even, 
so universal. 

These, however, are not all their schemes. 
Benevolence, or that affection which has 
our kind for its object, has come in for a 
share of their attention ; as well as. politi- 
cal institutions, or the influence of human 
laws. 

Benevolence, or tha.t quality of the 
mind> which bears good will to men, is 
certainly a very general principle, and in 
some it is remarkably strong. It is th 
ruling principle of their hearts, and at it 



205 



suggestion, they delight in doing good. 
Every hour of the day finds them contriv- 
ing or executing kind offices to others, 

It must be observed, however, that self- 
love, as it is called, or the principle of in- 
terest, is much stronger than benevolence ; 
and it is highly proper that it should, for 
no man's happiness can be so fitly trusted 
to any as himself. 

At the same time it must be granted, 
that this principle is often too strong. In 
many it completely sets aside benevolence. 
Selfishness or the excess of this principle, 
we all know to be a very common vice. 

Hence we can easily account for much 
of the irregularity, tyranny, and rapine in 
the world. When the love of self is upper- 
most, it absorbs every other principle, and 
regards nothing but its own gratification. 
This it uniformly pursues, whatever others 
may suffer. 

Why then talk of benevolence, as super- 
seding the fear of the Lord ? Do men al- 
ways follow the guidance of this principle ? 
Do they always respect its dictates, when 
their own inclinations are concerned ? Do 
they always tread in its paths, when the 
good of the world is to be promoted ? 



206 



Benevolence was certainly intended to 
be the guardian of the rights and happi- 
ness of others. It pleads in their behaL 
to ourselves, who have a different interest 
It remonstrates against the encroachments 
of self-love. It keeps in remembrance the 
claims of those whom we are tempted to in- 
jure. 

Though benevolence, or good will to 
others, is a strong principle, yet on account 
of the preponderance of self-love, we are 
decidedly of opinion, that as a preserver 
of the good order and happiness of socie- 
ty, it is far more unfit than either reason 
or honour, which we have already shewn 
to be weak and insufficient. 

At the same time we allow, that it is one 
of the most useful principles of our nature, 
and always active in good men; that it 
has irresistible charms to those who prac- 
tise it, and highly endears all such to those 
who know them, and cultivate their ac- 
quaintance and friendship. 

Nay, it both greatly aids the principle of 
religion which is planted in our breasts, and 
in turn is greatly aided by that principle. 
A truly good man never neglects it, and a 
strong recommendation of it, in a variety of 



207 



forms, is one of the chief characteristics of 
Christianity. 

Let us cherish then a spirit of benevo- 
lence. Let us shew ourselves alive, and 
act in conformity, to its influence, in all 
cases where the good of others is concern- 
ed. Let us be zealous and earnest in this 
matter, that our wishes for their welfare 
may not be disappointed. 

At the same time let us not overvalue 
its power. Let us not cry it up to the 
disparagement of other principles. Let 
us not look to it for the guidance of ac- 
tions, which it neither can nor will guide. 
Let us keep it in its own place, where 
alone it can be of use. Let us cherish 
the fear of God, while we feel the love of 
men. 

But besides benevolence, the ignorant 
and presumptuous have wished to substi- 
tute political institutions instead of reli- 
gion. 

That men are induced to the perform- 
ance of duty, by the fear of human laws, 
there can be little doubt. A concern for 
their safety makes them stand in awe of 
these, though they may regard them no 



208 



farther. Their regard indeed commonly 
ceases with their interest. 

What operates powerfully against hu- 
man laws, as a substitute for the fear of 
God, they only reach the outward conduct* 
They do not penetrate into the heart, 
or purify the springs of action. These re- 
main nearly or altogether untouched. 

Even in guiding the outward conduct $ 
they are very imperfect. Many are the 
cases to which they do not apply, and 
many are the ways of eluding them. They 
are short-sighted mortals like ourselves, 
who make and execute them ; and if we 
can escape their observation, w r e are per- 
fectly safe. Over the conscience they have 
little power, and the punishments* which 
they inflict, extend chiefly to the body. 

But limited as they are in power, they 
are absolutely necessary for preserving the 
order and peace of society. Miserable 
and cruel indeed would be our situation, 
if there were no human laws. The af- 
fairs of the world could not be managed 
without them. The weak would every 
w T here become the prey of the strong. Mis- 
rule and abuse would reign every where. 
Man, for his own comfort and security, 



209 



would be obliged to hide himself in caves 
of the earth ; to skulk in the forest, or 
roam in the desert. 

Great and invaluable therefore must be 
the advantages of civil government. Of 
these we cannot be fully sensible, un- 
less we had experienced the horrors of 
anarchy. If our persons were not pro- 
tected, nor our property secured, we would 
have some idea of that distraction and ter- 
ror, of that discomfort and misery, which 
flow from the want of civil government. 

Civil terror has ever been ineffectual, 
without the terror of religion. The arm 
of the magistrate is weak, unless religion 
lift up her arm. There is no security for life 
and property, where aGodof power and jus- 
tice is not known and acknowledged. The 
comforts of domestic life cannot be quiet- 
ly enjoyed, where high respect is not paid 
to the being above. We cannot go in and 
out w r ith safety, unless the presence of 
God is felt. Our most retired hours will 
be invaded, and our most sacred privileges 
encroached upon, if we do not remember 
him, to whom we are accountable, and on 
whom we depend. Often the belief of his 
providence alone can stop the mouth of 

o 

m' ■ 



210 



slander, or stay the hand of violence ; re- 
strain the rapacity of the night plunder- 
er, or wrest the poinard from the assassin. 

With all impartial men, the notions of 
the patriarch Abraham on this subject 
must have great weight. He lived at that 
period of the world, when men had not 
attempted to misrepresent or pervert the 
dictates of common sense, on the being of 
a God, or the doctrine of a providence. 
He had no theory to support, but spoke 
the language of the heart in a case, w T here 
his own comfort and safety were concerned. 
He tells Abimelech, that he was afraid of 
being assassinated, on account of his wife, 
from the brutal passions of men, who had 
no sense of religion, or fear of God before 
their eyes. 

Essential, however, as civil government 
is to the order and happiness of society, 
it has its firmest hold in religion. It is 
this which supports the authority of the 
magistrate, gives force and vigour to his 
laws, renders his arm strong, and his voice 
commanding, makes the wicked tremble 
at his nod, and the disorderly cower at 
his frown, throws a vail of sanctity and 
awe around him, when he punishes the 
guilty. 



211 



If religion has been favourable to the 
civil magistrate, it is not likely that he 
will reject her aid, or cast off her alliance. 
He would be a shallow politician, indeed, 
if he did so. He would not be fit for go- 
verning men, who did not know, that this 
was one of the most powerful means, by 
which men were governed. 

Most governments, indeed, have fully 
discerned the importance of the religious 
principle, and always encouraged some 
form of it or other. They have every way 
been convinced of its power over men, as 
well as their own weakness without it ; 
and have not failed to seek all the assis- 
tance which it is calculated to give, and in 
general- have greatly relied on it for secur- 
ing the order and happiness of society. 

On this account indeed some have main- 
tained that religion had its foundation in 
state-craft, and that there would be no 
such thing as religion, if politicians had 
not invented it, to keep the multitude in 
awe ; but such an idea is more specious 
than solid. All governments, to be sure, 
are imperfect, and some of them peculiar- 
ly so. Thefts, robberies, murders, and other 
crimes cannot always be prevented, even 



5 



218 



by those which are reckoned the most 
strong. 

A consciousness of their defects, per- 
haps, has made them look out for foreign 
aid, and none has appeared to them more 
promising than religion. This has had a 
most extensive empire over the mind, and 
he that could properly weild this instru- 
ment, might be thought qualified to guide 
men as he pleased. 

Hence have arisen in most countries what 
are called established religions, and in 
those which have enjoyed a wise and liber- 
al government, there have been tolerated 
religions, though we regret to say they 
have been few. They are nearly confined 
to this country and the United States of 
America. 

But though we allow the usefulness of 
religion to government, we affirm that its 
foundation lies much deeper than the po- 
licy of statesmen. It rests on principles 
which are inseparable from human nature ; 
an indelible sense of moral obligation, and 
a firm conviction of the being of God, and 
the doctrine of a providence. 

Before those ideas about the rise of re- 
ligion from the policy of statesmen can be 



213 



realized, human nature must be altered. 
The course of providence must be chang- 
ed. There must be another heaven and 
another earth, and subjects of the divine 
government different from men ; a state 
of things, not real, but imaginary. 

In literary history we have heard a great 
deal about the alliance between church and 
state, and some have treated the subject as 
if it could not be comprehended by common 
understandings; but we are decidedly of opi- 
nion, that such an alliance is founded alto- 
gether on mutual advantage. Governments 
we believe find religion a very powerful 
friend, and individuals find the protection 
of government necessary to the free and 
undisturbed exercise of their religion. 
Hence the rulers of the state have been 
called the nursing fathers and mothers of 
the church ; and the members of the church 
no doubt ought to be the dutiful and affec- 
tionate children of the state. 

They will certainly be so, if they have 
the fear of God before their eyes. This 
principle will powerfully lead them to the 
fulfilment of all their duties ; to decency, 
sobriety, industry, justice, benevolence, 
and every virtue, which becomes a citizen 
and a christian. 



214 

Such is the force of religious principle 
in preserving the order and peace of so- 
ciety, and how worthy is it of our atten- 
tion on that account, we need not declare ; 
and how eagerly we ought to support it, 
we hope you are fully convinced. 

We have the more reason to do so, be- 
cause there is a disposition in some to be 
dissatisfied with established usages, and re- 
ceived opinions ; to find fault with what 
others are pleased, to call in question what 
others believe. In short they are too much 
swayed by a spirit of innovation, a desire 
of novelty, a love of change. 

This disposition peculiarly shews itself 
in regard to religion, concerning which 
many strange speculations are entertained, 
and many fantastic theories proposed. They 
are always for new-modelling it, according 
to certain preconceived ideas of their own, 
and setting aside those forms of it which 
others observe, 

Such a humour ought to be discour- 
aged. We ought always to distrust our 
own opinions, when others disagree with 
us. We cannot be too diffident of our 
own judgments, when exercised on the 
works of God, and the conduct of his pro^ 



215 



vidence. On subjects so sublime we 
should wish to listen rather than to dic- 
tate, to learn rather than direct. 

We allow the use of political institu^ 
tions, we acknowledge the benefit of hu- 
man laws ; but still all wise and good 
men have found religious principle to be 
necessary and effectual This they can nei- 
ther supersede, nor render unavailing, in 
the conduct of human affairs. To do this 
is not indeed to be desired, if it were in 
their power. 

We live in an age, in which false philo- 
sophy, combining with the fashion of the 
times, is for banishing religion out of the 
world, and discarding the fear of God al- 
together, as a relict of fanaticism ; but we 
may be assured, that the foundation, on 
which this principle stands, is firm ; that 
the pillars, which support it, are impreg- 
nable ; and though we seem to break it 
down in one shape, it will rise up in 
another. 

With what propriety, then, can we at- 
tempt to set up reason, honour, bene- 
volence, or political institutions, in place 
of the fear of God ? All of these have their 
vise, and cannot be wanted ; but let them 



216 



not claim what does not belong to them. 
Let them be contented with their own 
place, and act in their own subordinate 
capacity. 

All these schemes tend to preserve the 
order and peace of society, as well as 
the fear of God. In this respect she co- 
operates with them, and she will thank 
them for their help, but let them not pre- 
sume to take her place, and then scornful- 
ly disown her. They are far inferior in 
power, and could do little good without 
her. 

Why, therefore, should we attempt to 
put a slight on religion, or not honour her 
as she deserves ? Let us regard her as a 
friend, and not an enemy. Let us take 
her assistance in the discharge of duty, and 
not render it more difficult by acting with- 
out her. We will evidently be acting as 
fools, if we follow any other conduct. 



DISCOURSE XVI. 



ON REGULATING AND IMPROVING THE 
FEAR OF GOD. 



Gen. xx. 11. 

And Abraham said, Because I thought, Sure- 
ly the fear of God is not in this place ; and 
they will slay me for my wife's sake. 

Our view of this great subject is now 
drawing to a close, and it must ever leave 
a deep impression of its importance on 
the mind, when treated with seriousness 
and zeal. 

We have seen with what efficacy the 
fear of God keeps the heart, and guides 
the life; establishes the character, and 
directs the conduct. In this respect no 
principle can equal it. 



218 



This influence is entirely owing to its 
object ; and how great he is, all his works 
declare. He unites in himself every ex- 
cellence. His power and his justice are 
tremendous, and both tend to stir up and 
cherish fear. 

God, whom we fear, is the first and 
the greatest of beings. All other beings 
arise from and depend on him. There 
neither is, nor can be a comparison be- 
twixt him and any creature. 

Man fears God, because he is so imper- 
fect ; because he fails in duty, because he 
is punishable, if he offends ; and will be 
punished, if he do not meet with favour 
and mercy. 

We cannot be persuaded of these things, 
and yet displease God. To obtain his fa- 
vour must be the first wish of our hearts. 
Our happiness and even our existence 
are at his disposal ; and whom can we be 
so much concerned to please ? 

His favour, however, we are not likely to 
obtain, unless we obey his will ; unless we 
learn what his commands are, and determine 
to consider them as rules of conduct ; un- 
less we act continual] y as his servants, 



219 



however we may be tempted to give up 
his service. 

While, therefore, we contemplate the 
glorious perfections of God, let us keep the 
command of our own minds. We will be 
carried along by this principle, if we are 
not superior to its controul. If it once get 
the mastery, we will be notorious for our 
absurdity, folly, or meanness. If it be- 
come unreasonable and tyrranise over us, 
it will terrify and humble us to the very 
dust. 

When this is the case we will conceive 
of the Almighty, as a most capricious and 
relentless being, as one who made men to 
be miserable, and can only be satisfied with 
the most abject prostration of mind, and 
not a rational and becoming obedience 

Whenever we are reduced to this 
state, we will attempt to please him by little 
observances, which, however useless, har- 
rass and torment, perplex and overwhelm. 
While w r e form the most gloomy apprehen- 
sions of his nature, and consider him as 
harsh and inflexible ; we will waste our 
strength in trying to please him. 



$20 

In this case, however, we will always 
seem to ourselves not to succeed. If we 
have any portion of good sense, and take 
care to be impartial ; we will not be sa- 
tisfied with our efforts,, Such a service, 
we are quite aware, may be despised, but 
cannot be accepted. It is unworthy of 
ourselves, as well as that God, to whom it 
is offered. 

As a consequence of this want of suc- 
cess, life will be embittered. We will com- 
pletely miss what cannot be too highly 
valued, an assurance of the favour of God. 
Without this we cannot enjoy happiness, 
and when peace of mind is lost, existence is 
not desireable. If the Almighty be our 
foe, where can we be safe ? If conscience 
vipbraid us, how can we be happy ? 

Fear of God, then, is highly important. 
What can do so much, and so well, is not 
to be under- valued or slighted. Whoever 
does so, will act unwisely, and shew him- 
self unfit for the business of life. He 
will be seen to use his faculties impro- 
perly, especially those faculties, which 
have a great influence on his comfort 
and happiness, and to manage which ought 
to be all his study and endeavour. 



221 



What so strongly sways the determina- 
tions of the mind, had need to be well go- 
verned. If it be allowed too much liberty, 
it will assume undue authority. When it is 
not controuled, it will presume to command. 
Nothing will be thought or done, but as it 
dictates. As if it alone ought to reign, it 
will discountenance and overpower every 
faculty. 

Its proper regulation then must be of 
the last consequence. If it disregard all 
rules, no man can say, what may be the 
result. Whether it shall do more evil or 
good, will be a nice question. Whether 
it will profit or hurt, will depend on the 
frame and habits of the individual. 

Certainly upon its right regulation will 
depend its usefulness. If it be not manag- 
ed as it ought, it will do a deal of mischief. 
If ever it become a frequent guest, and at 
the same time retain its strength ; it will 
cause the ruin of our peace, if not our mo- 
rals. 

Highly are we concerned, then, to go- 
vern this principle ; to see that it do not 
exceed in strength, that it do not pass the 
bounds of reason ; that it always be what 
we wish, discreet and manageable ; that it 



222 



be ready to obey, and not disposed to do- 
mineer. 

This will be an immense benefit. If it 
be kept in its place, we will be quite com- 
fortable. Every thing will go on as it 
ought. There will be order in all our fa- 
culties, and regularity in all our conduct. 
We will be careful to do our duty, and 
none will have cause to complain. 

But we are not more interested in re- 
gulating than improving this principle. 
Its improvement is a point of the highest 
importance, and this is chiefly to be secured 
by contemplating God himself, and engag- 
ing in all those exercises, by which he is 
worshipped and served. 

For this purpose we ought to meditate 
upon God, as discovered in his works : — we 
mean the works of creation and providence, 
which are open to the observation of all, 
and which are the truest expressions of 
his nature and character, as well as the 
standing monuments of his power, wisdom 
and goodness. 

His word gives a still clearer display 
of his attributes. There he is said to 
be gracious, merciful, and long suffering, 
as well as great, powerful, and glorious ; 



223 



the Father of Jesus Christ, as well as the 
possessor of heaven and earth ; the friend 
of the helpless, and comforter of the de- 
solate ; one who will not forsake the poor 
and the needy. 

The exercises of devotion will also bring 
God before the eyes of our mind, in all his 
illustrious attributes; in all the relations, in 
which we stand to him ; in all the grace, 
which he offers ; in all the truth, which 
he discovers ; all the duties, which he en- 
joins, and all the hopes, which he awakens. 

Private or solitary devotion will come 
in for its share in improving this principle. 
When the soul converses with God in re- 
tirement, it will behold him in all his 
dreadful, as well as lovely characters ; in 
majesty, as well as mercy ; in high dignity, 
as well as true kindness. 

In family devotion likewise, those views 
of God will be presented to the mind, by 
which fear will be awakened, or that prin- 
ciple, which we ought at all times to che- 
rish, and never suppress, whatever be our 
employments or amusements. 

In the public exercises of devotion, the 
same principle will be cherished. As these 
return at stated intervals, it will not be 



224 



suffered to decay. God is to be found in 
the assembly of his people, and thither the 
wise resort, that they may acknowledge and 
profess their willingness to obey him. 

All ought to imitate their example ; if 
they would pray to or worship him as 
they ought ; if they would consider him 
as the proper object of adoration and praise, 
and be encouraged and delight in such ex- 
ercises. 

By hearing pulpit discourses, the mind 
also will be directed to God, and fear a- 
mong other principles called forth and 
cherished. God is present to the mind in 
all religious discussions, whether they 
come from the pulpit, or any other quarter. 
On some occasions these may be thought 
to produce indifference of mind, but if they 
weaken other principles, they will certain- 
ly invigorate that of religion. 

Thus by contemplating God, as dis- 
covered in his works and his word; by 
reasoning, and devotional exercises, fear 
will be roused up and kept alive, drawn 
forth and rendered active, and enabled to 
answer its end, by producing a pious and 
holy life. 



225 

If the sum of virtue is thus greatly en- 
creased by the fear of God, can any prin- 
ciple be more excellent? Virtue is the 
parent of happiness, and happiness is all 
that a man can desire ; all for which he 
labours every day, and for which alone 
he thinks life worth the possessing ; and 
is not that principle, which chiefly promotes 
it, highly entitled to our regard? 

Ought we not then to attend to it, more 
than we do? Turn as we please, it ought 
to catch the glance of our eye. While we 
sail the voyage of life, it ought to be the di- 
rector of our motions. Be it rough weath- 
er or fair, let it draw our notice. Whether 
we be elevated, or depressed, whether we 
be high in hope, or humble in spirit ; let 
it not be overlooked. 

While the fear of God, then, rises in 
our breasts, and to exercise it is reckoned 
a duty, we must resort to all those means 
by which it can be regulated and improved, 
by which its object is brought before us, 
and its influence exerted over the heart 
and the life. 

In this case we can be at no loss what 
to do. If we are punctual in the exercises 
of religion, the fear of God will be sure to 



$M6 

spring up. This is the best method of 
calling it forth, if it was not in exercise be- 
fore ; and of keeping it alive and strong, 
while we are preparing for the eternal 
world. 

We cannot be too anxious about its 
management and culture. We should see 
that it do not decay in our hands, but 
grow up and flourish ; that its leaves be 
green, and its fruits ripen ; that it be one 
of those trees in the paradise of God, which 
are rich in variety of produce, and excel- 
lent in quality. 

Certainly it will thrive, if it is not our 
own fault ; if we are not culpably negligent, 
and wretchedly inattentive ; forgetful of 
God, and not earnest in seeking his favour ; 
losing sight of our dependence, and banish- 
ing all ideas of our accountableness, 

If we are wise, we will conduct ourselves 
through life, as seeing him who is invisible. 
He must ever be in our eye, if we would 
serve him with godly fear. We must never 
forget, that he is our governor, and will 
be our judge, if we would not break his 
law, nor|disregard his authority. 



DISCOURSE XVII 



ON TRUSTING IN GOD, AND DOING GOOD. 

Psalms xxxvii. 3. 

Trust in the Lord, and do good ; so shalt 
thou dwell in the land, and verily thou 
shalt be fed. 

Scripture is a treasure of instruction 
and comfort to the human race. Among 
other arguments it insists on the various 
duties of life, and shews that our highest 
interest is involved in their discharge. 

One of these duties, which it often in- 
culcates, is trust in God, — a duty of vast 
importance to man, and perhaps more ne- 
cessary than any other. From the precari- 
ous nature of all human enjoyments, and 
the positive certainty that God is the Lord 
and governor of the universe ; it must al- 

3 



228 



ways be wise and profitable, to repose our 
souls with unlimited confidence on the 
author of our being. 

Agreeably to this idea, in discoursing 
from the words of the Psalmist, I shall 
first explain the nature and qualities of 
religious trust, and then point out those 
?*easons which chiefly recommend it. 

Trust in God is properly a reliance on 
him for the supply of our wants, protection 
from danger, and assistance in our under- 
takings. In many respects we are a needy, 
defenceless, and feeble race ; and on no be- 
ing can we so properly rely, as him who is 
Almighty, independent, governor and Lord 
of all things. 

While trust believes God to be all suffi- 
cient, and the universe under his controul ; 
it considers his providence as a scheme of 
beneficence, devised by wisdom, and carri- 
ed on by power. It teaches that nothing 
can hurt us without his permission ; that 
all things are ordered for the best, and 
under his management will turn out well. 

Whoever, therefore, trusts in God is sa- 
tisfied, that he has the interest of his ra- 
tional creatures continually at heart, that 
we need never distrust him, or be under 



229 



apprehension that he will desert us ; that 
we may freely submit to whatever he de- 
crees, and fully rely on the accomplishment 
of those plans, which he is conducting for 
our good ; that sooner will nature fail, and 
the universe be crumbled into atoms, than 
his purposes not come to pass, or his gra- 
cious intentions not be accomplished. Na- 
ture but exists at his nod. Every event 
but fulfils his pleasure. 

He, who does not trust in God, must sus- 
pect his concern for our happiness, or his 
ability to promote it. Not discerning, or 
seeking to discover, the hand that directs 
the operations of nature ; he affects to 
believe that all things happen by chance, 
that God takes no interest in our affairs, 
that he suffers us to be hurried along the 
stream of uncertainty, or tossed in a sea 
of casualties, without the will or power to 
relieve us. 

He, however, who trusts in God, thinks 
very differently. He believes that there 
is no such thing as chance in the world ; 
that all the operations of nature are sub- 
ject to a being, all- wise, all-powerful, and 
truly beneficent ; one, who exercises a con- 
stant care over us, and all things; and 



230 

whose superintendance, however neglect- 
ed, or ascribed to second causes, never 
ceases. 

Those, therefore, who are influenced by 
trust in God, and entertain worthy ideas of 
his providence ; never disquiet themselves 
with things out of their sphere, or harbour 
anxious thoughts about their destiny. He 
determines the issue of things, and to him 
they leave whatever concerns them. How- 
ever poor and friendless, they are assured 
that he is constantly bringing good out of 
evil, and in all his measures consulting 
their happiness Pain, sorrow, and sickness 
may be their lot ; but they know r that such 
evils are designed to correct their faults ; 
and, when seen in their proper light, es- 
tablish the sanctity of his government, and 
secure the observance of his laws. 

While trust is founded on accurate ideas 
of God's perfections and works, it also sup- 
poses a just conception of our own insuffi- 
ciency and weakness ; that we exist only 
at his pleasure, and that all our comforts 
are his gifts ; that we have nothing which 
we have not received, and that all our pow- 
ers of thought and capacities of action are 
from him. 



To think that we are independent of 
God is out of the question. He is the 
source of our existence, and our constant 
support. We are entirely his work, and 
altogether at his disposal. We cannot ex- 
ercise one function of our frame without 
him. In him ive live, move, and have our 
being. 

While we are dependent on God in all 
these respects, trust never forbids the use 
of those faculties which he has given us, 
either for supplying our wants, insuring 
our safety, or establishing our character. 
It tells us to rest upon God for the ac- 
complishment of all that concerns us ; but 
still we are to do what we reckon to be 
our duty, in order to render ourselves easy, 
comfortable, and exemplary. 

When men pretend to trust in God, 
without their own exertions, in matters 
of duty ; on what do they rest such a pre- 
tence ? There is nothing in the ordinary 
course of things, which countenances total 
inactivity in ourselves, whatever reliance 
we have upon God. It is a maxim of 
common sense, as well as an observation 
of scripture, that he that does not work 
should not eat ; and if men have no clis- 



232 



agreement about this maxim in temporals, 
why should they have any in spirituals ? 
Will any blessing in the religious and mo- 
ral world be obtained without labour, 
when not one advantage in the natural 
can be obtained without it ? If strenuous 
and unremitting exertions are necessary 
for accomplishing every purpose in human 
life, is it not the height of folly to suppose, 
that it can be otherwise in religion ? It is 
an unalterable law of God's moral govern- 
ment, that he will order all things for our 
good ; but, as accountable beings, we canr 
not reap the fruit of that law, unless we 
act faithfully the part that becomes us. 

Nay, as servants of God and followers 
of Christ, we must not be satisfied with or- 
dinary attainments. We must exert all 
our faculties, and improve our souls to the 
utmost. In all our actions w r e are to take 
reason and conscience for our guide, and 
glory in fulfilling the end of our being, 

About the result of our actions, when 
so managed, we need not be anxious. That 
is not our affair, but God's ; and we may 
be assured that he will do what is right ; 
what will be for our good and his honour ; 
what eternal justice requires, and what it 
will approve. 



233 



If, therefore, we would be swayed by 
ideas of true wisdom, we must do good, 
while we trust in God. We must use 
means for accomplishing our purpose, 
while we leave the event entirely to him. 
We must do what duty dictates, though 
no one advantage, either in the world of 
nature or grace, be at our command. No- 
thing but ignorance or presumption, vani- 
ty or folly, can be pleaded for a contrary 
conduct. 

We owe to God all our faculties, but he 
has left the use of them to ourselves. How- 
ever subject to his controul, they are to be 
employed as reason and conscience directs. 
We can never rely upon him, if we do not 
conduct ourselves, as beings capable of in- 
struction and duty. We cannot look up 
to him as a friend, or expect that he will 
favour us, if we do not delight in his law, 
or are not active in obeying it. 

Such will be our uniform endeavour, if 
we have right principles. The whole ex- 
tent of our duty is thus reduced to a short 
compass. The best eulogy which can be 
pronounced upon any one is, — He trusts 
in the Lord, and does good. 



234 



After explaining what we are to under- 
stand by trusting in God, while doing 
good ; we come next to state those reasons 
which chiefly recommend it, and, first, the 
exercise of trust is comformable to the 
constitution of our nature. 

The mind of man is formed to rely on 
something without itself, as a security 
against evil. One man trusts to his riches, 
another to the accidental gleanings of cha- 
rity ; one to his friends, another to his re- 
putation ; one to the vigour of his under- 
standing, another to his professional skill. 

These things are means of securing cer- 
tain advantages ; but experience teaches, 
that they are very fallacious. Riches, 
it is well known, may take ivi?igs and flee 
away. The sources of accidental charity 
when we are not aware, may be dried up ; 
friends may forsake us in our need, or be 
snatched from us by death ; a good name 
is not altogether at our command, but de- 
pends greatly on the opinions of the world ; 
and bad health may hinder us from exert- 
ing our pow r ers of understanding, or dis- 
playing our professional talents. 

He, therefore, that trusts in these things, 
may be disappointed, but not so the man 



235 



that trusts in God. He is superior to all 
beings, and cannot be controuled. He 
holds in his hands the rod of empire, 
and gives law to every part of the universe. 
What he purposes cannot be hindered. 
Whatever he says shall be done. Heaven 
and earth may pass away, but his word 
cannot fail. Times and seasons may change, 
but the Almighty changeth not. He is 
the same yesterday, to-day and for ever. 

But whatever be the perfections of God, 
those only, that fear his name and keep 
his commands, are encouraged to trust in 
him. In prosperity or adversity, in health 
or sickness, he loves the dutiful, and par- 
dons the penitent. He is the true anchor 
of the soul to the faithful, when tossed on 
a sea of difficulties. He is the sure sup- 
port of the humble, when struggling with 
want, or labouring under disease. He 
stands by the self denied in the hour of trial, 
and suffers them not to be overcome. He 
holds the shield of his protection over the 
destitute, and will not forsake them, how- 
ever helpless or neglected. 

Whatever may be our past conduct, if 
we will be at pains to reflect, and open our 
minds to conviction, we will find that our 



236 



wants are numerous, and that God alone 
bestows, whatever we need in this vain 
and perishing world= Often we are gross- 
ly ignorant of what it nearly concerns us 
to know, and who can so properly instruct 
us ? we are liable to many transgressions 
of his law, and who can so effectually keep 
us in the paths of obedience? We are 
exposed to trouble, even when our conduct 
is suitable to our profession and our hopes ; 
and who can give us such true comfort ? 

Persuaded that God has created, pre- 
serves, and redeems us, we naturally re- 
sort to him as our gaurdian and friend. 
Whenever we take a just view of the Al- 
mighty and ourselves, and attend to his 
ability and inclination to favour us, as well 
as to our own precarious and independent 
state ; whenever we acknowledge his su- 
premacy and wise government, and are sen- 
sible of our resolutions to serve him with 
our hearts, and honour him with our lives ; 
whenever we endeavour to be distinguish- 
ed for piety, excel in benevolence, and 
maintain our integrity ; we are authorised 
to commit our dearest interests to him, 
and no doubt we will have ample grounds 



237 



to be satisfied with whatever he deter- 
mines concerning us. 

But, Secondly, Trust in God, while we 
do good, improves our moral qualities. 

Whenever trust is exercised, it excites 
good sentiments, cherishes good disposi- 
tions, strengthens our habits of righteous- 
ness, and lessens the power and success of 
temptations. 

Often, from want of trust in God, we are 
induced to amass wealth by fraud, to over- 
reach a neighbour in business, to seize 
property by violence, or carry it away by 
stratagem ; to repine at poverty, or mur- 
mur under affliction. In these and simi- 
lar instances, the laws of religion and mo- 
rality are broken. 

The case is very different, when trust 
reigns in the heart. Assured that our in- 
terests are in the hands of God, we are not 
anxious how we are to support ourselves. 
Swayed by it in all our judgments, we ne- 
ver suffer imaginary wants to disturb us. 
Even in the depths of misery, no gloomy 
despondence hangs on the brow, no dark 
suspicion lurks in the breast. In every si- 
tuation we are contented with the allot- 
ments of providence, and believe that what- 



ever befalls us is appointed by the author 
of our lives, and the disposer of our for- 
tunes. 

The influence of trust on the moral prin- 
ciple is strong in arduous situations. When 
we are in danger of miscarrying in great 
attempts, when evil of any kind threatens 
us, when ill designing men rise up against 
us, and all human strength and prudence 
fail ; trust in God comes in to our aid. 
Then is this principle found to be a noble 
security against weakness and despair. 
Then it acts as a powerful spur to firm- 
ness and diligence. 

Its power is peculiarly felt, when the last 
hour approaches. From the love of life 
death is terrible to flesh and blood, and its 
terrors are heightened by our ignorance of 
the state beyond the grave. Our guilt 
leads us to doubt the best, and fear the 
worst, when we are carried to the land of 
spirits. 

Trust, however, banishes all depressing 
and intimidating thoughts, restores tran- 
quillity, prepares us for our great change, 
and enables us to go through the last con- 
flict with fortitude and resignation 



239 



Thus are the horrors of dissolution sof- 
tened by trust in God. Thus are we sup- 
ported under the severest trials. Thus are 
the interests of virtue encouraged and 
maintained, and the spread and influence 
of vice discountenanced, weakened, or pre- 
vented. 

Thirdly and lastly, Trust in God, while 
we do good, will add greatly to our com- 
fort now, as well as our happiness here- 
after. 

In this world our state is often dark and 
uncertain. From our feebleness and frail- 
ty, we are liable to innumerable accidents. 
A thousand things conspire to make us 
unhappy, and even the mind itself causes 
its own misery. Often the heart is in 
trouble, while the countenance speaks 
peace. Often we are sad, when others re- 
joice. 

In such a state of mind, what does the 
exercise of trust ? It tells us that there is 
a God in the heavens, who is concerned 
for our welfare, and watches over our in- 
terests ; who is carrying on a plan for our 
happiness, and will not leave unfinished 
what he has begun. 



240 



Under the direction of such sentiments 
as these, we feel the greatest satisfaction 
of mind. We delight in the reliance, which 
we have upon God. We are well pleased 
to rest on that great and powerful being, 
who daily takes care of us, and gives us all 
things richly to enjoy. 

If prosperity be our lot, we greatly re- 
lish its blessings. While we contemplate 
these, we discover the singular goodness 
of God to ourselves, and the pleasureable 
feelings of love and gratitude rise in our 
breasts. He, who presides over all nature, 
and has the sun and the moon, the times 
and the seasons, the winds and the waters 
under his controul, is in every sense of 
the words our benefactor and friend. 

In adversity the power of trust upon the 
soul is still stronger. It cheers up our droop- 
ing spirits in the day of misfortune, and 
gives calmness and rest amidst the storms 
and tumults of life. When the sky of af- 
fliction lowers and the tempest of calami- 
ty gathers, we are not troubled or dismayed. 
We consider the darkness of the times as the 
work of God, and the rage of the elements 
as furthering his designs. The rains may 
descend and the winds beat, but the peace 
of our minds cannot be disturbed. Like 



241 



the church, it is founded on a rock and 
the gates of hell shall not prevail against 
it. 

In all situations we are greatly at ease, 
if we trust in God. Whatever may hap- 
pen, w r e are not distracted. We refer all 
things to him, whom the world obeys. We 
know that the affairs of men are under his 
controul, and we are satisfied that he 
will direct them with equity and wisdom." 
Whatever be the state of the wise and the 
goodj w r e are persuaded that they share in 
his favour and care. 

Of what importance to our comfort in 
this world, then, is trust in God? How does 
it add to the sum of our joys upon earth? 
How does it pour gladness into the soul, 
when our state is dark and sorrowful? 
How does it sweeten the bitterest cup of 
misery, which we have occasion to drink? 
This result of trusting in the Lord, while 
we do good, is its best recommendation. 
This is an advantage altogether indepen- 
dent of outward circumstances, and may be 
enjoyed by the meanest as well as greatest 
of men. 

The inducements to trust in the Lord, 
while doing good, mentioned in the text, 

a 



242 



are altogether of a temporal nature. The 
possession of Canaan, and assurance of sub- 
sistence, here meant by dwelling in the 
land, and verily being fed, were what the 
Israelites were to look to, while discharge- 
ing the duties of the text; though, no 
doubt, spiritual blessings might be implied. 

We, to whom these words may be ad- 
dressed, do not live under the Jewish Theo- 
cracy ; but if we act as they command, 
if we trust in the Lord and do good ; we 
are likely to obtain the comforts of life, and 
enjoy personal safety. 

In general, however, the motives to du- 
ty now rest upon higher ground. Faith * 
has now a nobler direction. The christian 
now chiefly looks to the rewards of a fu- 
ture state. His greatest hope is placed be- 
yond the grave. His happiness is under- 
stood to be completed on the other side of 
time. The inheritance of the saints in light 
is promised to him that perseveres. 

Whoever, then, trusts in the Lord, shall 
dwell in heaven, the true typical Canaan ; 
and be gladdened with the joys of immor- 
tality ; that spiritual food which shall ne- 
ver perish. After his course of trial is 
over, after his weary pilgrimage is finish- 



9A3 



ed, he shall reach the land of rest, and ne- 
ver more be exposed to hardships or suf- 
fering. 

Into the depths of eternity we are not 
permitted farther to enter. We only know 
that the state of those, who have trusted 
in the Lord and done good, is a state of 
the truest and most interminable happi- 
ness. They shall taste the purest joys, 
when our natures are exalted and perfect- 
ed. 

For this, then, and the other reasons now 
illustrated, let us be persuaded to trust in 
the Lord and do good. This spirit of pie- 
ty, while we cultivate virtue, is highly 
worthy of a rational mind, and truly be- 
coming a sincere christian. Here principle 
and practice are united. Here obligation 
and duty correspond* 

If this union and correspondence shall 
be verified in our case, we are called upon 
and authorised to rely upon God : — Who 
is among you, says the prophet, that fear- 
eth the Lord, and obeyeth the voice ofhisser^ 
vant ; let him trust in the name of the Lord, 
and stay upon his God. 

We all depend upon God for protection 
and safety. He supports us in infant 

3 



244 



years, guides us through the giddy paths 
of childhood, watches over us during the 
dangerous season of youth, brings us up 
to manhood, and when he has dwelt a 
while with us in this highest part of our 
journey, brings us down to old age. 

In the hands of no one can our affairs, 
whether temporal or spiritual, be better 
placed than in God's. None can inter- 
meddle with them, without his permission. 
All events are under his controul, and 
none can frustrate his purposes. He reigns 
supreme in heaven above, in earth below, 
and over all worlds. None can stay his 
hand, or say unto him what dost thou ? 

As all things are thus subject to God, 
so he orders them all for the best. None 
holds our interest more dear ; and if it be 
for our advantage, he will make us prosper 
in the world ; or if there be reasons un- 
known to us, which hinder our temporal 
prosperity, he will make us prosper in 
righteousness. He will give his spirit, to 
enlighten our minds in the knowledge of 
his will, to quicken our endeavours in keep- 
ing his commands, and comfort our hearts 
amidst the sorrows of life. 



Cast, therefore, your care upon God, for 
he careth for you. Commit the desire of 
your soul to him, and if it be reasonable, 
he will accomplish it. Whatever may be 
your lot, you may place the fullest con- 
fidence in his wisdom, power and good- 
ness. However heavy may be your afflic- 
tions, or however dark your prospects, you 
may trust entirely to him for every thing 
relating to your comfort and happiness. 



DISCOURSE XVIII. 



ON SERVING GOD, AND OBEYING 
HIS VOICE. 

Joshua xxiv, 24. 

And the people said unto Joshua, The Lord 
our God will we serve, and his voice will 
we obey. 

Joshua before his death called the 
Israelites together, and after stating the 
obligations under which they lay to serve 
the Lord, puts it to their choice, whether 
they will serve him or not ? And as the 
Lord had every claim to their service, and 
they had received the most distinguished 
tokens of his favour ; they agreed to serve 
him, and the words now read express the 
agreement into which they entered. 

Supposing that these words are adopt- 
ed by every christian, and they are virtu- 



248 

ally adopted by every one ; I shall in the 
following discourse give some account of 
the service of God, and shew what motives 
chiefly recommend it. 

Obeying the voice of God, we do not 
consider, as very different from serving him. 
Every act of right service is to be viewed 
as his command, and, therefore, obeying 
his voice is another expression for serving 
him. 

All right service must be the result of a 
sense of duty, as well as a ready submis- 
sion to the divine will. If it flow from 
any other source, it must be a counterfeit, 
not a genuine service. However it may 
please the eye, it cannot bear to be exami- 
ned. 

Right service comprehends every act of 
duty, which we owe to God. We must hon- 
our, and adore him. We must fear, love, 
and obey him. We must be resigned to 
his will, and contented with the allotments 
of his providence. We must be grateful 
for his mercies, and pray for the continu- 
ance of his protection and favour. 

It comprehends every act of duty, which 
we owe to men. We must be just in our 
dealings, courteous in our manners, meek 



249 



peaceable and forbearing in our actions, 
generous in our principles, candid in our 
judgments, and ready to assist the help- 
less, and relieve the needy. 

It comprehends every duty, which we 
owe to ourselves. We must be of a tract- 
able spirit, and correct and regular habits ; 
every way sober, and temperate ; complete- 
ly master of our thoughts, passions, and 
temper. 

The service, which we offer to God, 
must be the very best in our power. For 
instance, we must serve him with the 
choicest part of our time, our studies, and 
pursuits ; with our families, our interest, and 
substance ; our bodies and spirits, our no- 
blest affections, and most exalted capaci- 
ties ; our strength and our wills, 

A service of outward shew will never do. 
The use of the body, without the concur- 
rence of the mind, is insignificant and un- 
availing. The form, without the spirit, is 
as unsuitable now, as sacrificing a dead 
carcase, instead of a living creature, would 
have been formerlv. 

The service, which we are to render to 
God, does not consist of the mere labour 
of the lip, honour of the tongue, or pros- 



250 



tration of the knee. The obedience of 
the heart only is excellent. The service 
of the will only is worthy of praise. 

The man of true piety, or he who loves 
his Maker, delights in his service. He 
prefers it to every other, and goes about 
it with cheerfulness. However continued, 
he reckons it to be no drudgery, and feels 
it to be no burden. Light is the service, 
when the heart goes along. It becomes 
as easy, as if it were perfectly natural. No 
discouragement can deter, nor opposition 
weary. Our eagerness to obey surmounts 
every difficulty. 

While we serve God, we cannot, pro- 
perly speaking, assist him. We may 
assist men like ourselves. We may be 
useful in giving them advice, defending 
them from injuries, promoting their in- 
terest, or alleviating their sorrows ; but of 
what use can we be to the Almighty ? Can 
we instruct him by our wisdom, or guide 
him by our righteousness ? Can we exalt 
him by our homage, or sooth him by our 
obedience ? He is wholly independent of 
us, and has no need of our service. 

By our service we do not benefit God, 
but ourselves. We feel it to be our duty 



251 



to obey him ; and when we are faithful in 
this obedience, our minds are satisfied. 
We act in conformity to our sense of obli- 
gation, and are persuaded that we are re- 
commending ourselves to his favour. 

This in general being the service which 
we owe to God, let us now attend to the 
motives by which it is recommended. 
They are various, but those on which we 
shall insist, are its reasonableness and its 
acceptableness ; and, first, as to its reason- 
ableness. 

God, as the best of beings, is entitled to 
high esteem ; as the wisest, he is to be ad- 
mired ; as the most powerful, he is to be 
feared ; as he is acquainted with all our 
affairs, and superintends all our actions, he 
is to be acknowledged ; as he is very great, 
he has every claim to our submission. 

On account of the transcendant excel- 
lency of God, the Psalmist calls upon all 
creatures to praise him. Praise the name 
of the Lord, for his mercy alone is excellent. 
His qlory is above the earth and heaven ; — 
and on the same ground are we called up- 
on to serve him. It is a piece of respect, 
which is due to him more than another 
being, 



252 



He alone can make us happy or mis- 
erable. If we be resolute and firm in his 
service, he can bestow upon us the noblest 
recompense. All the treasures of peace 
hope and joy are at his disposal, and allot- 
ted to those who study to please him ; but 
if we offend him, our case must be very 
alarming. He is fully able to revenge 
every affront, and there can be no affront 
greater than renouncing our allegiance, 
and contemning his authority. 

We should serve God, because he creat- 
ed us. We are his sole property, and 
ought to devote to him our talents and 
opportunities. We owe to him our very 
existence, and all its blessings ; and what 
other being can have such a right to our 
service ? We may serve other beings in 
preference to him, but can such a service 
be justified by reason ? 

Nay, the very things with which we 
serve him are his own, and should we not 
serve him with what he has given ? Hear 
what David says, when he and the people 
offered largely towards building a temple 
for the service of God. All things come of 
thee, and of thine own have we given thee. 



253 



We are not lords and proprietors, but stew- 
ards, of what we have ; and ought to use 
it, as the owner directs. 

God deserves our service, because he 
preserves us. We are supported by him 
every moment, and, through his mercy 
and forbearance, draw the vital air, enjoy 
a sound mind in a sound body, have the 
free use of all our faculties, as well as food 
and clothing ; converse with those of our 
kind, and taste the sweets of domestic and 
social life ; go about our callings, and ap- 
pear at stated times in the places of wor- 
ship. 

God's redeeming us is also a strong in- 
ducement to serve him. When we had 
destroyed ourselves, God by a miracle of 
mercy brought about our deliverance. Our 
sin exposed us to an eternity of misery, but 
his love has procured us an eternity of hap- 
piness. 

None but his only begotten Son could 
accomplish this work, and him he has not 
spared, but freely given up. This was hea- 
ven's best gift, and shall not the idea pow- 
erfully work upon our gratitude, and 
strengthen our resolutions of obedience ? 



254 



Even independent of this consideration, 
we are bound to serve God, as our gover- 
nor and judge. To serve him on this 
ground we can never object. If he tyran- 
nized over us, if his commands were cruel 
and rigorous ; if his government were arbi- 
trary and oppressive ; no generous mind 
could serve him ; but if his government 
is orderly and beneficial, his laws mild and 
equitable ; a voluntary obedience is what 
no considerate person can refuse. As he 
rules upon earth, with the most perfect 
wisdom, as well as the most irresistable 
sway ; with infinite goodness, as well as 
unimpeachable equity ; and, when the 
course of our probation ceases, will bring 
us to judgment ; we are expected to be 
willing in obeying him. 

If, therefore, we are under the sovereign- 
ty and controul of God, if we are accoun- 
table to him for our actions, if he will re- 
ward or punish us according to our desert, 
there is the highest reason why we should 
serve him. Nay, it is our truest interest 
that we should serve no other. 

For all these reasons, we may be assured, 
that his service is just and right. Our 



255 



existence, preservation, and hopes depend 
upon him. Our enjoyments are displays 
of his bounty, and our comforts marks of 
his favour. Though all nature be his work, 
and his dominion extend to the remotest 
universe ; he never forgets, nor overlooks, 
our welfare. 

Thus, as our Creator Preserver and 
Redeemer, as our Governor and Judge, 
God is entitled to our service. His laws 
are suited to our state, and these he has 
authority to enforce, and we are bound to 
obey. They are the results of that wisdom 
which never erred. They are the injunc- 
tion of that friend, who is ever kind and 
compassionate. In themselves, they are 
holy, just, and good. In their tendency, 
they lead to peace, comfort, and happiness, 
All of them challenge our regard, and are 
subservient to our interests. 

But the service of God is not only rea- 
sonable^ it is also acceptable. This is the 
other motive to which I proposed to draw 
your attention. 

That right service will be acceptable to 
God, is known from our moral judgments, 
the course of nature, and the declarations of 
scripture. By this means we are convinc- 



256 



ed, that all good actions are acceptable to 
him. God is no respecter of persons, but in 
every nation he that feareth him, and work- 
eth ?*ighteousness, is accepted of him. 

Now, when the service which we render 
to God is acceptable, we conclude that we 
ourselves are approved ; and the approba- 
tion of God, in consequence of serving him, 
is truly valuable, and more to be desired 
than any blessing, 

But the favour of God will follow his 
approbation, and ought not this assurance 
to fill us with delight ? Should we not 
reckon this our chief happiness ? Ought 
not this to influence all our proceedings ? 
/ love them that love me, is his own decla-^ 
ration, and those that seek me early shall 
find me. 

But still farther, the favour of God will 
lead to a suitable reward. He is just in 
all his proceedings, and it is certain that he 
will not neglect or pass over those, who dili- 
gently and faithfully serve him. Those 
that honour God, he will honour ; and though 
we cannot merit by our service, yet the 
better we serve him, the greater will be 
our reward. 



257 



Part of this reward will be given in the 
present life. While we are here, God will 
order all things for our good, preserve us 
from those rocks on which others make 
shipwreck of faith and a good conscience ; 
and so smooth our course, that we shall en- 
joy much ease and peace of mind, and even 
at times arrive at considerable wealth and 
honour. 

The chief reward, however, of those, 
whose service is acceptable to God, is life 
and immortality. When we are reward- 
ed here for our piety and virtue, we may 
infer, though we had no assurances from 
scripture, th&t we will be rewarded here- 
after ; for both worlds belong to God, and 
what is begun in the one, will be most cer- 
tainly concluded in the other. There is 
a unity in all his designs, and this is seen 
to run through the whole plan of provi- 
dence. 

Such are the benefits implied in, or flow- 
ing from, the acceptableness of our service 
to God ; benefits that leave us nothing 
farther to desire. If we render to him a 
right service, he is disposed to give us all 
that can be useful to us here, or valuable 
to us hereafter. 

R 



258 



To be influenced by the acceptableness 
of our service to God, is a law of our na- 
ture. How alive are men to the good opi- 
nion of others ! By these they wish to 
be regarded and valued ; and though they 
may be more careless about the regard and 
value of inconsiderable persons, or those 
whom they despise ; yet it is far otherwise 
with those whom they esteem and love. 

How ambitious, for instance, are men to 
insinuate themselves into the graces of 
the wise and good, but especially the great 
and powerful. This is the foundation of 
all those strained and unnatural compli- 
ments, which are sometimes paid to kings, 
princes, and nobles ; and if we can attract 
their looks or engage their smiles, though at 
the expence of honesty and independence, 
we think ourselves fortunate. Taking 
them for superior beings, we suppose that 
we will make ourselves eminent by speak- 
ing to them ; and there is no servility or 
meanness, to which some will not descend, 
merely to have the honour to be known 
to them. They will wait upon them with 
the most sedulous attention, listen to their 
words, however foolish ; flatter their pre- 
tensions, however extravagant ; and re- 



259 



ceive their commands, as marks of singular 
indulgence. 

But whatever makes us desire the no- 
tice and favour of men, should much more 
make us desire the notice and favour of 
God. It is a much greater affair to be 
respected and honoured by him, than the 
highest mah in office or rank. He is 
Lord of the universe, and, compared with 
him, those high in office or rank shrink in- 
to nothing. He is unerring in wisdom, 
boundless in goodness, and uncontroulable 
in power ; and he cannot mistake our char- 
acter ; nor ever be inclined to hurt usj nor 
tempted to mislead or overreach us 

Even men themselves, whose notice and 
favour we so much court, always prefer 
virtue to vice, if they are not swayed by 
bad motives. If a master should refuse 
his servant his hire, when fairly earned, 
every person will reprobate his conduct. 
If a son rises early and sits up late, that he 
may provide decently for himself and his 
aged parents ; every one will commend his 
spirit. If a man of plentiful fortune and 
great leisure makes the wants of mankind 
his peculiar care; counselling the unwise, in- 

3 



260 



structing the ignorant, reforming the vici- 
ous, supplying the needy, comforting the 
sorrowfuL, and visiting the sick ; does not 
that man seem almost an angel from hea- 
ven ? do we not venerate him almost as a 
superior being ? 

But if we oursielves be pleased with such 
displays of goodness, much more is God. 
When we live soberly, righteously, and 
piously in the world, we are acting agree- 
ably to the nature which he has given us; 
we are obeying his commands, and doing 
good both to ourselves and others. He 
made us to be happy, and our happiness is 
promoted by a conduct which has the best 
reasons to recommend it. 

Since, therefore, we have fully proved, 
that the service of God is not only reason- 
able, but highly acceptable, we will un- 
doubtedly take up the resolution of the 
Israelites and say ; The Lord our God will 
we serve, and his voice will we obey. He is 
our director and support, and we will attend 
to his counsel, and execute his will. 

From what has been said upon this whole 
argument, we may have some idea of the 
nature and extent of that service which 
God requires. To serve him in the man- 



361 



ner now described, ought to be the busi- 
ness of our lives. Nothing ought to in- 
terest us more, than that we should serve 
him in a fit and becoming manner. To 
excel in such service ought to be our ear- 
nest and most prevailing desire. 

When we duly consider, that he is the 
great searcher of hearts, and most inti- 
mately acquainted with our affairs, we 
should most carefully watch oyer our tem- 
per and conduct. He with whom we have 
to do pervades all nature. All things are 
naked and open to his eye. He sees in 
darkness as well as in light. The veil of 
hypocrisy is too thin to conceal from his 
view. Art and cunning cannot deceive him. 

This great being is just and beneficent ; 
and he, that regulates his conduct by the 
laws of religion, will receive from him bless- 
ings that shall never perish. His portion of 
comforts in this world shall not be small ; 
and when he resigns his breath to the Fa- 
ther of spirits, he shall enter into complete 
happiness. This is the hope and joy of 
the righteous. This is the reward of those, 
who serve him and obey his voice. 

He intends our welfare by the com- 
mands which he gives, and ought we not 



5262 



to obey them ? He is our heavenly Fa- 
ther, and will we be guilty of disobedience? 
He is our sovereign Lord, and will we dis- 
pute his injunctions ? We are altogether 
incapable of being guided by our own un^ 
derstandings, and will we refuse his coun- 
sel ? Will w r e set up our wills in opposition 
to his righteous pleasure, and say in the 
moment of imagined independence, that 
we will not have him to rule over us ? 

Surely none of us will be so forgetful of 
our duty. Surely it will be a delight, and 
not a task to devote to God our souls 
and bodies. He has given us all that in- 
struction and advice which our state re- 
quires, and we ought to improve these ad- 
vantages. He has not left us without the 
means of knowing our duty, and we can- 
not be innocent, if we neglect to profit by 
these means. 



DISCOURSE XIX. 



ON THE GREATNESS AND DIGNITY OF 
CHRIST DURING HIS ABODE 
UPON EARTH. 

Matth. xxvii. 54. 

Now, when the centurion, and they that 
were with him watching Jesus, saw the 
earthquake, and those things that were 
done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly 
this ivas the Son of God. 

Nothing can be more delightful to 
the mind, or more calculated to improve 
it, than the contemplation of greatness 
united with excellence. We are deeply 
interested in the person, possessing these 
qualities, when he removes from this world 
into another. This interest may be awak- 
ened by various circumstances ; but by 
none more powerfully than uncommon 
events in nature, supposed to be con- 
nected with his death. 



264 



This at least was true in the instance 
of our Lord. When the centurion com- 
manding the soldiers, who guarded the 
cross, saw what had happened, he feared 
exceedingly, saying, Truly this was the 
Son of God 9 % or one greater or more illus- 
trious than he appeared ; for being a 
heathen, he could not know that Christ 
was the Son of God, as we christians un- 
derstand that expression; but from the 
awful events that attended his crucifixion, 
he concluded that he was one of the high- 
er order of beings. 

This conclusion of the centurion, in all 
probability, arose from a notion familiar 
to the heathens, that, when the sons of 
the gods, or persons grander than human, 
departed this life, the occurrence was mark- 
ed by strange and frightful appearances, 
and that these were the evidences of that 
rank, which they really possessed, but which 
had not hitherto been known or suspected, 

This idea of the centurion, from what- 
ever cause it arose, we shall take up in 



* The itos 0J8 of the text, a Son of God, or a Son of a God, or a divine 
person, is called avfyaros hxaios a righteous man, in the parallel passage of 
Luke* 



265 



the present discourse, and shew by an in- 
duction of particulars, that many of those 
circumstances, which accompanied our 
Lord's appearance upon earth, demonstrat- 
ed his greatness and dignity, notwithstand- 
ing the poverty, contempt, and disgrace^ 
to which he was subjected. 

It is the more necessary to insist upon 
this idea, because our Lord's grandeur was 
concealed the greater part of his time up- 
on earth. He was born of poor parents, 
in an obscure village. Till he was mani- 
fested to Israel, he followed a mechanical 
employment, as is generally supposed ; and, 
like the majority of our race, earned his 
bread by the sweat of his brow. 

Even during the short period of his 
public ministry, his appearance was no^ 
splendid or ostentatious. He chose twelve 
individuals to assist him in his work ; but 
these were poor and obscure fishermen, 
persons indeed of the most blameless lives, 
but destitute of fortune or influence. 

Still, however, there w T as a grandeur 
and majesty attached to his person and 
conduct, to his life and death, which the 
wise and attentive, the candid and upright, 
will sufficiently perceive ; and which will 



266 



prove to their satisfaction his true emi- 
nence and superior excellence. 

First, then, our Lord's greatness and 
dignity, during his humiliation, appeared 
from the many prophecies uttered con- 
cerning him. 

A chain of prophecies, from the fall 
of bur first parents, to the Babylonish cap- 
tivity, centred in him alone. The force 
of these prophecies, singly considered, 
may not be great ; but it is irresistable, 
when they are taken together. Their 
joint evidence, that he was the Messiah, 
is strong and undeniable- The most mi- 
nute circumstance, spoken of the Messiah, 
corresponds to something in his character 
and offices, to his acting and suffering, his 
teaching and working miracles, his family 
and the time of his appearance. 

There is no other person in history, to 
whom all the parts of these prophecies can 
be applied, but Christ. The author of our 
religion alone was concerned in this decla- 
ration : To him gave all the prophets witness 
from the beginning of the world to his day. 
To his wisdom and virtue, merits and suf- 
ferings, they directly referred. 

Do not these prophecies, then, all meet- 
ing in Christ, elevate him in our concep- 



267 



tions, however persecuted and despised ? 
Are they not sufficient proofs of his great- 
ness and dignity, while he dwelt upon 
earth ? 

Secondly, To the world at large, as well 
as to his own countrymen, his miracles 
Were a sufficient display of his greatness 
and dignity. 

When he turned the water into wine, 
at a marriage feast in Cana of Galilee, the 
evangelist thus observes, By this beginning 
of miracles, he manifested his glory ; and 
every other miracle, which he performed, 
till his ministry was closed, was to be viewed 
in the same light. In this respect he pos- 
sessed a power, which very few mortals ever 
possessed, and never any to the same degree. 
All nature was subject to his controul, and 
even the world of spirits owned his domi- 
nion. Above all, the most inveterate dis- 
eases and maladies of the human frame 
yielded to his sway, and on this account 
his reputation was prodigiously increased. 

Jesus, however, never sought the notice 
of the world. The many miracles, which 
he wrought publicly, were to prove the 
truth of his doctrine, and not blaze abroad 



268 



his fame. He often forbade the persons, 
whom he healed, to publish his power ; 
and, even when the evil spirits proclaimed 
his dignity, he openly rebuked them, and 
constrained them to hold their peace. 

Whoever considered his miracles with 
attention and fairness, must have been 
struck with astonishment, and compelled 
to cry out : What kind of person was this, 
whom even the winds and the waters obey- 
ed ? Th.e power which he displayed was 
the power of God ; and of his coming from 
God, no better proof could ever be given. 

A Third proof of his greatness and dig- 
nity, during his humiliation, may be drawn 
from some remarkable events of his life. 

A certain majesty and grandeur indeed 
accompanied the whole course of his hu- 
miliation. His birth was announced to 
the shepherds of Bethlehem by the heaven- 
ly hosts. He was waited upon, after he 
was born, by the wise men of the east. He 
was worshipped by saints in the temple, 
when he was presented to the Lord. He 
was frequently countenanced by declara- 
tions from heaven, and ministered unto by 
angels, on all the more important occasions 
of his life. 



269 



Under this head, however, I shall only 
notice two events, and one of these was his 
transfiguration. 

This event is recorded by three evange- 
lists, Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The 
place in which it happened is generally 
thought to be Tabor, a mountain lying a- 
bout forty miles south west from Jerusa- 
lem, near that elevated tract of country, 
which goes by the name of Carmel in the 
Old Testament, At least he had retir- 
ed to a mountain, somewhere in Judea, 
from the multitudes that commonly at- 
tended him, and, as was his custom, pour- 
ed out his soul in prayer. 

While thus employed, a most extraordi- 
nary change took place in his appearance. 
His face shone as the sun, and his raiment 
ivas white as the lightning ; the messengers 
of heaven conversed with him, and a voice 
from a cloud that overshadowed him, tes- 
tified to the Apostles, who accompanied 
him, that this was God's beloved Son, whom 
they ought to hear. 

Such a scene as this, which the three a- 
postles witnessed, displayed his exalted 
character, and confirmed in no small degree, 
his pretensions to be Messiah. About eight 



270 



days before, he had told them, that some 
present would shortly see the kingdom of 
God, and this prediction was now accom- 
plished. They had seen the king in his 
glory, and were convinced that their Mas- 
ter was the most illustrious person, that 
had ever visited this lower world. 

The other event, to which I allude, as 
coming under this head, was his trium- 
phant entry into Jerusalem. 

The greatest part of our Lord's life was 
dark and gloomy ; but except the transfi- 
guration, this was its brightest spot. For 
a moment he seemed to assume that tem- 
poral dignity, which his countrymen expect- 
ed in their Messiah, and which belonged 
to their ancient kings. 

On this occasion he rode upon an ass 
colt, as the princes of the east were accus- 
tomed to do. A vast multitude of people 
had gathered around him, and the air rang 
with their shouts. Those that went be- 
fore, and those that came after, cried : Ho- 
sannah to the Son of David; blessed is he 
that cometh in the name of the Lord. In 
token of the gladness and exultation of 
their hearts, they spread their garments in 
the way, as well as the branches of the 



271 



trees, which they cut down as they went 
along. All Jerusalem was moved of the 
splendid arrival of the Galilean Prophet, 

We are not to judge of this event, from 
prejudices common to our country and 
times. To form a just idea of it, we must 
transport ourselves into the land of Ju- 
dea, and place ourselves in the situation 
of its ancient people. They were longing 
for the coming of that great and illustri- 
ous deliverer, who had been long promised 
to their nation, and who, they flattered 
themselves, would come in all the pomp of 
a mighty sovereign. 

In reality, therefore, this event was a 
momentary display to his countrymen of 
that regal dignity, which our Lord claim- 
ed, and still exercises. On this account, 
he is described by the apostle John, as the 
King of kings, and the Lord of lords. To 
him in this respect the words of the Psal- 
mist peculiarly refer : Thy throne, O God, 
is for ever and ever ; and the sceptre of thy 
kingdom is a right sceptre. 

In the fourth place, his greatness and 
dignity, during his humiliation, appeared 
from the surprising sagacity and wisdom, 
which accompanied all his actions. 



272 



111 this respect he attracted notice 
among the Jewish doctors, when he was 
twelve years of age. Coming up with his 
parents to Jerusalem, to worship in the tem- 
ple, as was the annual custom of the Jews, 
he astonished all that heard him by his 
readiness in asking and answering ques- 
tions. During the eighteen years that 
succeeded, no account is given of his intel- 
lectual progress, but, that it was very great, 
sufficiently appeared, when he began his 
public ministry. 

The whole plan of that religion, which 
he established, had been formed in his 
mind, and never was there a religion more 
unexceptionable in all its parts, more no- 
ble in its spirit and tendency. The doc- 
trine which he taught was original and ex- 
cellent, and vastly superior to any system 
of doctrines ever given to the world. It 
has indeed been opposed, for foolish and 
self-willed men will oppose any thing ; but 
at the same time it has received the un- 
qualified approbation of the greatest and 
the wisest of men. Those have always ad- 
mired it the most, who have understood it 
the best. 



273 



Such, however, was our Lord's superio- 
rity of mind, that he was not elated on 
this account. This was a weakness, of 
which he was not capable. He did not 
lift up his voice in the streets, that people 
might gaze at him ; and, when by his 
heavenly eloquence he extorted applause 
from the surrounding multitudes, he strove 
to suppress it. 

He was always equal to any circum- 
stances in which he was placed. Never 
was he embarrassed, when captious ques- 
tions were put to him ; nor at a loss to 
give the right answer, or make the proper 
observation, on any occasion. He had al- 
ways that possession of himself, which be- 
came his high office, and he discovered the 
utmost skill in converting every occurrence 
to the purposes of his mission. 

How exquisitely formed, therefore, were 
our Lord's intellectual faculties ! What a- 
mazing strength of judgment did he shew in 
all his instructions! how much was he 
guided by good sense in founding that 
religion, which we profess this day to the 
world ! 

But in the fifth place, his greatness and 
dignity, during his humiliation, appeared 

s 



274 



from the excellence and propriety . of his 
moral conduct. 

He set out as an instructor and refor- 
mer of men ; and he supported that cha- 
racter to the very last. He delivered him- 
self with that force of truth, and authority 
of reason, as compelled the assent of the 
unprejudiced, confounded the artful and 
designing, silenced the gainsayer, and 
convinced the pious and the humble. 

As what he said was wise, so all that he 
did was virtuous. As he spoke as never 
man spoke, so he acted as never man acted. 
He came to save men, and he was earnest 
in fulfilling this part of his undertaking. 
Every hour, that he could spare from the 
frailties of our nature, was dedicated to 
this important object. His whole ambi- 
tion was to recover men to the service of 
God, and make them eternally happy. 

While he was unwearied in doing good, 
he never celebrated his own praise. Far 
from boasting of his power, or glorying in 
his greatness ; he was ever full of modesty 
and self-denial. He was at once a pattern 
of humility, moderation, and contentment. 

So prudent w r as he in his whole conduct ; 
so judicious in all his dealings with men ; 



275 



evincing a noble and well governed spirit, 
every way suitable to his pretensions, as a 
teacher of religion, and a pattern of virtue. 

In the next place, his greatness and dig- 
nity, during his humiliation, appeared from 
the heroism of his last sufferings and death. 

Our Lord was exposed to sufferings from 
his birth to his crucifixion. No sooner 
was he ushered into the world, than his 
feeble frame was laid in a manger. He 
was not two years old, when he was forced 
to fly into Egypt, from the jealousy of a 
tyrant, who intended his destruction. All 
his days he had to struggle with the hard- 
ships inseparable from poverty. When 
his public ministry began, he was subject- 
ed to the venom of malice, envy, and slan- 
der. He met with the utmost ingratitude 
from his countrymen, though he labour- 
ed incessantly for their welfare. When 
his last sufferings came on, he was alone 
and unsupported. 

The force of his mind all along was sur- 
prising ; but, with regard to his last suffer- 
ings, it was extraordinary. He foresaw r 
what was to befal him, before his work was 
finished. He foreknew^ all that he hadj to 
undergo, before men could be saved. At an 

3 



276 



early period he spoke of his sufferings by 
metaphor, and, often afterwards, to pre- 
pare his disciples for their approach, men- 
tioned them in direct terms. 

This anticipation of his sufferings must 
have been dreadful ; and he would think up- 
on them the oftener, the nearer they drew. 
Imagination would rather encrease than 
diminish their greatness ; but he did not 
shrink back from the fate awaiting him. 
In this case no surmises of fear, or entrea- 
ties of friends, could conquer his resolu- 
tion. Instead of hiding himself in secret, 
devising a miraculous escape, or summon- 
ing the angels of heaven to his assistance, 
as he could have done ; he willingly obey- 
ed his Father, in surrendering himself to 
his enemies, After he had faithfully de- 
livered his message to the people among 
whom he appeared, he sealed the truth of 
what he had delivered by laying down his 
life. As he entered upon the duties of 
Messiah with cheerfulness and diligence* so 
he finished them with fortitude and resig- 
nation. 

The death of the cross was the lowest de- 
gradation which he had to undergo; but the 
magnanimity which he displayed, the migh- 



m 

ty work which was accomplished, and the 
inestimable blessings purchased for the hu- 
man race, gave it grandeur and importance. 

Lastly, The greatness and dignity of 
Christ appeared, during his humiliation, 
from the awful circumstances attending 
his crucifixion. 

While he hung upon the cross, nature 
was moved and shook to her centre. The 
graves gave up their dead, and the rocks 
w r ere split in pieces. The earth was shroud- 
ed in darkness, and the sun hid his coun- 
tenance in night. The veil of the temple 
was rent from the top to the bottom, 

Sad and humiliating was the contrast 
betwixt men and the external world on 
this occasion. Some gazed on the whole 
transaction, as a curious but extraordinary 
spectacle. Others, with deeper guilt, want- 
only and cruelly insulted the innocent 
but dignified sufferer. While the Jew- 
ish mob, priests, and rulers, a people de- 
dicated to God, discovered through all the 
scene, a most unrelenting hardness of heart ; 
the Centurion, and those that were with 
him, when they perceived the earthquake 
and what was done, feared exceedingly, 
saying, Truly this was a Son of God. 



278 



From the particulars thus detailed, all 
of us may discern the real greatness and 
dignity of Christ. The sympathy of ex- 
ternal nature with his sufferings, the high 
estimation in which he was held by God, the 
profound deference which was paid to him 
by angels, the perfect obedience of all nature 
to his commands, the sublime and beau- 
tiful truths which he disclosed and recom- 
mended, and what crowns the whole and 
gives it lustre, his noble piety and unbound- 
ed benevolence, his unshaken fortitude and 
invincible resolution, cannot escape the 
slightest observation. 

In the whole of his history, indeed, there 
was something extraordinary, something 
uncommonly great. Though his rank was 
not striking, nor his wealth abundant, which 
often gives splendour to character, and 
throws a lustre round personal merit ; yet 
he towered aloft in native excellence, and 
stood forth in all the perfection of virtue. 

It was not indeed easy for the apostles, 
to reconcile the grandeur of his mind and 
the nobleness of his deportment, with the 
meanness of his circumstances. At this 
they were greatly offended, and could not 
always surmount the difficulty, however 



279 



heavenly might be his conversation, or 
however wonderful his works. 

The more however prejudice disappears, 
and reason gains ground, we will perceive 
the high merits of Christ. Though out- 
wardly mean, he was inwardly grand. 
Though despised by men, he was honoured 
by God. Though not bred up in the schools 
of the prophets, yet the greatest prophets 
acknowledged him. Though his glory was 
shrouded, during his earthly career ; yet 
there was enough of majesty, to arrest our 
attention, and lead us to a true notion of 
his character. 

Whatever, then, might be the meanness 
of our Lord's condition, or disfavour with 
which he was treated by the world ; we 
ought not to question his pretensions, but 
to receive him as the Messiah of the an- 
cient prophets, as the Son of God, and Sa- 
viour of the world ; as the teacher of sa- 
cred truth, and propitiation for sin ; as 
the director of conduct, and dispenser of 
happiness. 

While we conceive Christ to be so exalt- 
ed and perfect, we ought to believe his 
doctrines ; and these will not be hard to 
believe, as they are just, reasonable, and 



280 

important ; leading both to the honour of 
God, and the good of men ; to the fulfil- 
ment of the wise purposes of providence, 
and the furtherance of our future and eter- 
nal happiness. 

But what the understanding, after ma- 
ture deliberation, admits to be true, ought 
to affect the heart, and guide the life ; 
form the temper, and regulate the conduct ; 
create a resemblance to Christ in disposi- 
tion and practice. He that saith, he abidetk 
in him, ought to walk, even as he walked. 
Hereby do we know that we know him, if 
we keep his commandments. 

What does it signify, brethren, whether 
we have learned the real character of Christ 
or not ; if we are not prompted by his 
views, and animated by his spirit ; if ex- 
cellency in the knowledge of the truth, 
and progress in the paths of holiness, are 
not before our eyes, and the objects of our 
ambition ; if we do not strive for victory 
over sin, and look for the recompence of 
reward, when the strife is over ; if we do 
not act as the redeemed of the Lord, and 
are moved by the crown of righteousness 
held out to our hopes. 



281 



This ought to be our principal task in 
this world. We say that we are the dis- 
ciples of Christ, let us be his disciples in 
sincerity. We glory in being called by his 
name, and let the course of our actions 
testify, that he is our Lord and Master, 
and that he rules over our understandings, 
and sways our affections. 

Let us be firm and incorrupted, then, in 
the cause of Christ. Let no consideration 
whatever hinder us from obeying his com- 
mands. Let neither height, nor depth, 
length nor breadth, nor any creature, come 
in between us and this work. / will, O 
Father, said our Lord, that none of those 
whom thou hast given me, perish ; and may 
every one of us be a disciple and friend, 
till the time come that we pass into the 
heavens, and take up our abode in the 
world of spirits. 



DISCOURSE XX. 



ON THE FITNESS OF THE TIME AT WHICH 
CHRIST APPEARED UPON EARTH. 

Gal. iv. 4. 

When the fulness of the time was come, God 
§ent forth his Son, fyc. 



The fitness of the time, at which Christ 
appeared, has been questioned by many. 
If the religion which he founded was ne- 
cessary for the perfection and happiness of 
men ; why was it not given to the first 
generations of the race, or at least at a 
more early period than it was given ? 

This question has been repeatedly ask- 
ed with an air of triumph by every infidel, 
since the days of the apostle to the pre- 
sent time, and some perhaps may be dis- 
posed to ask it, who are willing to believe 
the truth of Christianity. If God give ad- 



284 

vantages of improvement to some, which 
he denies to others ; his goodness will seem 
to be impeached, and it may be no easy 
task to satisfy the scrupulous enquirer, 
not to mention the presumptuous gain- 
sayer. 

Shortsighted mortals are unable to solve 
every difficulty that may be started con- 
cerning religion. We have not the means, 
and perhaps are unable to enter in- 
to those views, which guided the divine 
mind, regarding the time, at which Christi- 
anity was to be published. We are even 
hindered from deciding certainly on this 
point, from our limited knowledge of 
the history of men in past ages, as well 
as our complete ignorance of what will be 
their history in the ages to come. A dis- 
cussion of this nature may be proper to 
convince a professed theist, but to us* who 
are confirmed christians, it cannot be ne- 
cessary. Difficulties, which need to be ob- 
viated by abstract reasoning, ought to 
move us little. Our business is rather with 
things known, than things concealed ; with 
what is clear to observation, than what is 
beyond our comprehension ; with the plain 



285 



letter of duty, than with intricate ques- 
tions and obscure inquiries. 

Not to dispute the justness of these re- 
marks, if we take a fair and open view 
of this subject, we shall find that there are 
several reasons, which discover the fitness 
of that time, at which God sent forth his 
Son. These reasons we are now to detail, 
and the task will not be unprofitable, if it 
fix our attention on the wisdom of God, 
manifested in this act of his providence, 
and of course establish our minds in the 
belief of that religion which we profess. 

First, then, God might be said to send 
forth his Son at a fit time, because that 
event verified the prophecies concern- 
ing it. 

The Messiah was to be the offspring 
of Eve in a peculiar sense, of the lineage of 
Abraham, tribe of Judah, and family of 
David. He was to be born in Bethlehem, 
about six hundred years after the Babylo- 
nish captivity, under the last of four great 
empires, which were to make a figure in 
the world; while the temple of Jerusalem 
was standing, and the Jews exercising a re- 
gal power. 



286 



These marks of the time, at which Mes- 
siah was to appear, were observed, when 
Jesus came into Galilee, preaching and say- 
ing, Repent ye and believe the gospel; when he 
shewed himself to the JewSj with all the 
credentials of heaven on his side ; when 
he wrought miracles, and taught doctrines ; 
which only one sent from God could do 
and teach. 

This was the time, which God chose 
for sending his Son. At the time foretold 
by the prophets, Christ came into the world, 
and as none can foretel future events, but 
those whom God inspires ; Christ's com- 
ing at that precise time proved its fitness 
in the idea of God. 

This in the text is called the fulness of 
the time. It is the arrival of that time, 
to which all the prophets pointed ; or the 
approach of that time at which Messiah 
was to appear ; the old dispensation to end, 
and the new begin ; the law to date its 
close, and the gospel its rise. 

This is the only kind of fitness to which 
the text refers, though, no doubt, God per- 
ceived its fitness in other respects. To his 
mind every circumstance occurred, which 



287 



rendered it preferable to other times, 
though no such circumstance is noticed in 
the passage before us. 

Secondly, The age of Jesus Christ was a 
fit time for God to send forth his Son, be- 
cause there was a general expectation of 
an illustrious person, who was to unfold 
the nature, character, and worship of God, 
and greatly to better the spiritual, if not 
the temporal condition of men. 

This expectation took its rise from the 
prophecies now stated. From the earliest 
times intimations had been given of a great 
instructor and deliverer. As we have just 
seen, the time of his coming, and the 
place of his birth ; the tribe and family 
from which he was to spring ; were all dis- 
tinctly pointed out. 

Guided by this sure word of prophecy, 
the Jews, about the time of Jesus Christ, 
were anxiously looking for the Messiah ; 
and as the most magnificent account was 
given of the events which he was to in- 
troduce, and they were no longer an in- 
dependent people; they flattered them- 
selves, that he would restore their ancient 
polity, give them dominion over the na- 



288 

tions, and establish a kingdom which should 
never end. 

A similar expectation prevailed among 
the Gentiles. From the dispersion of the 
Jews among the neighbouring nations, 
their conversation with the most learn- 
ed and inquisitive men of their time, 
and the translation of their sacred books 
into the Greek language, which was then 
very generally spoken and understood ; 
their religious principles, and especially 
the prophecies relating to the Messiah, 
became known over a great part of the 
eastern world ; and a belief widely circu- 
lated, that a prince was to be born in Ju~ 
dea, who would possess great power, and 
whose dominion w r ould extend over all the 
earth. 

As about the reign of Augustus Caesar, 
then, the expectation of an illustrious per- 
son was common both to Jews and Gen- 
tiles, what time could be more fit for God 
sending forth his Son ? Had he come at a 
more early period, this expectation could 
not have been raised ; or at a later, it would 
have become languid, and died away. 

Thirdly, God sent forth his Son at a fit 
time, because the best known and most ci- 



289 



vilized men were then living peaceably un- 
der one great empire, and holding frequent 
and unrestrained intercourse with one an- 
other. 

In the most early periods of society, men 
were few in number, and unaccustomed to 
strangers. They consisted of little com- 
munities, which were disunited by territory, 
languages, laws, and religion ; but still more 
by hostility and violence ! The weak were 
a prey to the strong, and the great tyran- 
nized over the small. The Assyrians, Baby- 
lonians, Persians, and Grecians, kept the 
world in agitation for several hundred 
years, and successively shared its dominion 
and its riches. After them the Romans 
arose, pursued their conquests farther than 
their predecessors, and long swayed the 
sceptre of universal empire. This was the 
fourth beast represented in vision to the 
prophet Daniel, as dreadful, terrible, and 
strong exceedingly ; and it had great iron 
teeth ; it devoured and broke in pieces, and 
stamped the residue with its feet. 

A consequence of this extended empire 
was a very general tranquillity, and a free 
communication of one province with ano- 
ther. The nations, which submitted to the 



290 



Roman yoke, gradually laid aside all 
thoughts of war, and cultivated the arts of 
peace. The animosities of the hordes and 
tribes, which composed that vast empire, 
had been softened down, or were worn a- 
way ; and a person might travel from one 
corner of it to another, with perfect safety. 

This state of things was highly favour- 
able to the progress of Christianity. Meet- 
ing with few interruptions, it would spread 
farther in a few years than it could at any 
former period. Whenever it was announ- 
ced, men were at full leisure to attend to, 
and had every opportunity to embrace it. 

What time then, could be more fit for 
Christ publishing his religion ? At what 
period was it more likely to get admission 
into the neighbouring kingdoms, or be 
heard by the intelligent and wise of every 
nation ? 

Hut, fourthly, God sent forth his Son at a 
fit time for publishing his religion, because 
men were more capable to judge of its 
proofs, than at any former period ; and 
even as capable, as they have been at any 
period since. 

In the early ages of the world, men 
had made little progress in the art of 



291 



thinking. In general they were immers- 
ed in the deepest ignorance, and accustom- 
ed to indulge their imaginations without 
exercising their judgments. They admir- 
ed every thing extraordinary, and had al- 
most no knowledge of the laws of evidence. 

In this state of things, they were un- 
able to judge of a religion, pretending to 
come from God, and the grossest nonsense 
might have been palmed upon them as of 
divine origin. They were disposed to be- 
lieve every wonderful tale, and even to 
swallow the most arrant absurdity, if urg- 
ed with effrontery and vehemence. 

But at the time when Christianity was 
published, no pretensions of this kind could 
have succeeded. Mankind had acquired 
a taste for speculation, and delighted in 
research. Philosophy was eagerly studied, 
and literature zealously cultivated. It was 
the custom of the times to reason upon 
every thing, that had the least novelty or 
interest. The art of disputation was skill- 
fully conducted, and the utmost ingenui- 
ty discovered in argument. 

By exercises of this kind, the powers of 
the mind were sharpened up, and men 
enabled to detect imposture, as well as 

3 



292 



discern truth. Every thing that drew 
attention, and was viewed without preju- 
dice, had a fair trial, and its just value was 
searched into and ascertained. 

With persons so sagacious and inquisi- 
tive, the gospel would be more eagerly lis- 
tened to, and its excellence more clearly 
perceived. They would be better quali- 
fied to scrutinize and examine its proofs, 
as well as comprehend and feel their force. 
From their love of study and habits of re- 
flection, they would be more apt to con- 
sider its doctrines, and more able to find 
out their reasonableness. 

We do not, however, say that they 
would be more ready to embrace them. 
Men of learning and ingenuity are too 
often puffed up with their attainments, 
and cherish the most lofty ideas of their abi- 
lities; and while they overlook the simplici- 
ty of the gospel, and despise its supporters; 
they impute its miracles and prophecies 
to evil spirits, or human craft ; and in fact 
to any thing but the true cause. 

Accordingly, when the gospel was pub- 
lished, it was not the learned and ingenu- 
ous, who embraced it, the affluent and pow- 
erful ; but the poor and the humble ; 



293 



those visited with afflictions, and sensible 
of their imperfections, eager for the favour 
of God, and the pardon of their sins. 

It became God, however, to send his Son, 
when men were distinguished for talents 
and acquirements. Its publication was 
highly proper, when those, to whom it was 
addressed, were intelligent and wise. This 
was not declining, but inviting the reason 
of man to consider it. This was prefering 
day to night, light to darkness. 

Could any time then be more fit for 
publishing our religion, than that at which 
men were most capable of entering into 
its merits, and most likely to discover its 
truth ; when their understandings were 
uncommonly vigorous ; when they were 
fond of thinking, and disposed to reason ; 
when they could judge of evidence, and 
appreciate excellence? 

But fifthly, God sent forth his Son at a fit 
time, because the exertions of human rea- 
son w r ere then proved to be unequal to the 
task of recovering men from polytheism 
and idolatry. 

Reason had no doubt then reached its 
height. The utmost ingenuity and acute- 
ness were shewn in speaking and writ- 



294 



ing. Men excelled as poets and orators, 
as philosophers and historians. Some 
of the finest productions of human ge- 
nius were then given to the world. 
Many were then unequalled for talent and 
eloquence. Such a constellation of learn- 
ing and wit had scarcely ever appeared. 

In several respects this was the most en- 
lightened age, that had been known since 
the beginning of time. The philosophers 
of this age were indefatigable in study, and 
travelled into distant countries in search of 
knowledge. Their enquiries were not al- 
ways the most judicious ; but they had 
made no inconsiderable advances in the 
physical, and especially the mathematical 
sciences. 

Unfortunately, however, their attain- 
ments had almost no relation to religion 
and morals. These departments of study 
were either deemed unworthy of their at- 
tention, or supposed not sufficiently to ex- 
ercise their powers of abstraction. They 
were fond of being thought wise, but their 
wisdom was not calculated to benefit them- 
selves or others. 

Even granting their speculations on re- 
ligion and morals to be sound and correct, 



295 



these had little influence on those around 
them. They seem never to have tried, and 
might be pronounced unable to reform 
men. Men thought they had little con- 
cern with their tenets as rules of conduct ; 
and so destitute were they of authority as 
teachers, that they could not have reform- 
ed the inhabitants of a single village. 

They indeed had a few disciples, whom 
they instructed in their peculiar doctrines, 
but they made no converts to a pious and 
holy life. No more heed was paid to the 
religious and moral education of men, than 
if they had been beasts of the field. Certain- 
ly, the great mass of the people, with whom 
they had little intercourse, lived in the ut- 
most folly and vice, and seemed to feel no 
obligation to be wise and virtuous. 

Some of their religious and moral max- 
ims might be just and excellent : but they 
themselves counteracted their influence by 
opposite maxims, or a contrary practice. 
They observed themselves, and inculcated 
upon others the sacred obligation of ob- 
serving, all those rites, that were sanction- 
ed by custom, however absurd or ridicu- 
lous, however cruel or obscene. They 
went into all the excesses of immorality, 



296 



current among the vulgar ; and even in- 
dulged in vices, the most abhorrent to our 
feelings of decency and propriety. 

But the peculiar feature of this age was 
its superstition. For a long course of years, 
superstition had been gaining ground in 
the world ; and, like all bad practices into 
which mankind fall, it had degenerated in 
its progress. Its rites, from being trifling 
and unmeaning, had become greatly and 
impiously wicked. Some of the usages, 
which it countenanced, were extravagant- 
ly licentious, and others excessively bar- 
barous. 

It is truly astonishing that an age, ex- 
celling all the ages that had gone before 
in knowledge and ingenuity, in taste and 
refinement ; and even in these respects infe- 
rior to none that have come after, should 
be so deplorably corrupted in religion and 
morals. The bulk of the people, not only 
went into all the horrors of superstition ; 
but were guilty of the most shameful irre- 
gularities ; and those who ought to have 
known better things, and whose conduct 
might have been expected to be more cor- 
rect, instead of inculcating a rational faith, 
ox shewing a blameless practice, encour- 



297 



aged them in their follies, by keeping pace 
with them in their vices. 

It is evident, therefore, from these re- 
marks, that human reason was either un- 
willing or insufficient to instruct men in 
the knowledge of God and their duty. 
From some grand defect or other, true 
piety and genuine virtue were little un- 
derstood or cultivated. 

A rule of sound belief and uneorrupted 
practice in religion and morals was never 
attempted to be given. Some beautiful 
and important truths, respecting God and 
his providence, were certainly communi- 
cated by Socrates to his disciples ; but they 
had no effect on the citizens of Athens. 
Some sublime and interesting precepts of 
morality were also taught and exemplified 
by the Stoics ; but in general their morali- 
ty was of the most presumptuous cast, and 
calculated for beings very different from 
weak and fallible men. 

In a word, this age, notwithstanding its 
celebrity for intellectual sagacity and ele- 
gant accomplishments, might be said to be 
without God, and without hope in the world % 
The men of this age were learned and in- 
genuous in every thing, but that in which 



298 



learning and ingenuity could be of any real 
or lasting benefit. They had forgotten 
their Creator and Preserver amidst their 
greatness and glory, or served him in a 
way at which common sense revolted. 

At no sera of the world was a revelation 
of the divine will more necessary. There 
were very few traces of true religion to be 
found. Gods and goddesses were multipli- 
ed without number. The making and 
worshipping of images were carried to the 
utmost extravagance and debasement. 

When such principles and practices 
every where abounded, notwithstanding the 
boasted powers of reason, was not a com- 
munication from heaven, of a purer system 
of religion and morals, extremely desire- 
able ? Was not the authority of God him- 
self needed to guard truth and virtue ; 
when men of the highest attainments, and 
the most improved understandings, had 
wandered so far into error and vice ? 

Never was the light of reason better 
shewn than at that period to be incapable 
of guiding men to salvation. An argu- 
ment against its claims was then furnish- 
ed from fact, worth a thousand arguments 
from theory. Reason was then able to do 



299 



her best, and from the little that she has 
done, we see how feeble are her powers to 
teach religious and moral truths. 

Let us rejoice then that the will of God 
has been revealed to us for our salvation ; 
that taken by wisdom the ivorld knew not 
God, it pleased God by the foolishness of 
preaching, to save those that believe. We, 
in these latter times, trust not to the idle 
suggestions of a vain philosophy, but to 
the unerring councils of him who cannot 
He or be deceived. God, who in sundry 
times, and in diverse manners, spoke in time 
past to the fathers by the prophets, hath in 
these last days spoken by his Son, and how 
therefore shall we escape, if we neglect so 
great salvation ; ivhich at first, began to be 
spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed unto 
us by them that heard him ; God also bear- 
ing them witness, both with signs and won- 
ders, and with diverse miracles and gifts of 
the Holy Ghost, according to his own will ? 



DISCOURSE XXI 



ON THE FITNESS OF THE TIME AT WHICH 
CHRIST APPEARED UPON EARTH. 

Gal. iv. 4. 

When the fulness of the time was come, God 
sent forth his Son, fyc. 

Is a knowledge of Christianity necessary 
for obtaining its blessings ? Men in every 
age of the world, perhaps, may be indebt- 
ed to Christianity for their happiness in a 
future state ; though they know little, 
or are entirely ignorant of that scheme 
of things by which this happiness is secur- 
ed. A knowledge of Christianity will un- 
doubtedly render those less excuseable, who 
do not use the means which it prescribes 
for attaining salvation ; but we have not 
sufficient grounds for asserting, that in- 
vincible ignorance of its truths will ex- 



302 



elude good men from a share of that de- 
liverance from sin, which Christ purchas- 
ed by his sufferings and death. In scrip- 
ture he is called the Lamb slain f % om the 
foundation of the world, and the obvious 
meaning of that expression is, that the ef- 
ficacy of his blood, as an atonement for sin, 
reached the very first ages of men, though 
the shedding of it happened at a later pe- 
riod. 

Now those, who were benefited by his 
blood before it was shed, behoved to have 
a very obscure knowledge of his character 
and work. If we except the most eminent 
patriarchs and prophets among the Jews, 
the rest of mankind could have very little, 
or any knowledge of him at all, before he 
appeared. 

It is highly reasonable to think so, but 
it would be extremely uncharitable to 
contend, that multitudes of good men 
throughout the earth perished, because 
they had no very clear knowledge, or were 
entirely ignorant, of the great Prophet, 
who w r as afterwards to arise. Surely those, 
w T ho in any age live according to the light 
of nature, or diligently use the means of 
improvement in their power, are not to be 



303 



cut off from the mercies of God, because 
they are invincibly ignorant of Jesus, and 
the way of salvation ; or if we are not al- 
lowed to say, that many will be happy 
through Jesus of Nazareth, who barely, or 
never heard of his name ; we may at least 
say, that those, who lived in the first ages 
of the world, will not be the worse for the 
lateness of his appearance ; nor will those 
be the worse, who have never heard of him, 
since he did appear. 

But whatever be the opinions of men on 
this subject, we have shewn in the last dis- 
course, that there were many reasons, which 
proved the fitness of that time at which 
Christ appeared upon earth ; and we now go 
on to observe in the sixth, or last place, that 
God sent forth his Son at a fit time, if we 
consider the state of religion and morals 
among his ancient people the Jews. 

The religion of this people may be con- 
sidered in two views, the one including 
knowledge, and the other worship. In 
both they were very defective. 

When God separated the children of Is- 
rael from other nations, he gave them a 
revelation of his will, suited to the ideas 
and feelings of a people, who had been bred 



304 



up in the midst of idolaters, and received 
almost no polish from the arts of civiliza- 
tion. Under the extraordinary means 
which they enjoyed, great improvements 
might have been expected ; but they had 
not made the best use of their advantages. 
They were no doubt taught the nature 
and attributes of God, in a more just and 
rational manner, than any other nation had 
been ; and yet on many occasions they 
discovered gross ignorance, and great ob- 
stinacy ; needing to be dragged into duty, 
rather than yielding the service of a will- 
ing mind. 

Their ideas of providence, about the 
time of our Saviour, were most inaccurate. 
Because they had been long under its spe- 
cial direction, as the natural descendants 
of Abraham, they imagined that no care 
whatever was taken of the rest of mankind ; 
that they every where met with discoun- 
tenance instead of favour. 

This great error in their religious creed 
had the most unhappy influence on their 
practice. With the most foolish and su- 
percilious spirit, they held every other na- 
tion in the most sovereign contempt. Their 
charity or good offices extended only to 



305 



Jews or Jewish prosylites ; and while 
they considered these only as brothers, 
they viewed all others as aliens from the 
commonwealth of Israel, and strangei*s to 
the covenant of promise. 

Besides this pernicious error* respecting 
the moral government of God, a very dan- 
gerous set of opinions in regard to 
the divine law had been introduced. On 
the canon of scripture, as settled by Ezra, 
they chose to exercise their critical pow- 
ers ; but not being guided by sound judg- 
ment, or even common sense, they made 
the sacred books speak a very different 
language, from what the spirit of God in- 
tended. By their false glosses, and espe- 
cially their corrupted interpretation of 
the Mosaic books, they grossly perverted 
some of the most essential precepts of the 
moral law. 

Another dangerous mistake in their re- 
ligious creed was the great deference which 
they paid to traditions, or what was call- 
ed the oral law. These had been collected 
into a system by some of their most cele- 
brated teachers, and among the disciples 
of these, and even the people at large, they 

T 



306 



had in course of time acquired an authority 
equal, if not superior, to the written law. 

What a broad foundation was here laid 
for perverting scripture; may be easily ima- 
gined by any one, though our Saviour had 
not told us. The consequence of this 
undue ascendancy was, that the doctrines 
of scripture were judged of by their tra- 
ditions, and not their traditions by the 
doctrines of scripture. In many cases, cer- 
tainly, they made the scripture of none 
effect through their traditions. 

So egregiously did the Jews err in se- 
veral points of religious belief. So corrupt- 
ed among these were the sources of true 
piety and virtue; and when the under- 
standing was dark, could the heart be well 
directed ? Might they not be justly said 
to perish for want of knowledge ? 

But the religious doctrines of the Jews 
were not more corrupted than their reli- 
gious worship. All that related to the wor- 
ship of God among the Jews was ceremo- 
nial. From the temper of the Israelites, 
when the Mosaic law was given, as well as 
the usages of the world at that time, God 
thought proper to institute a pompous form 
of worship. Bodily purefications, sacrifices 



307 



of various kinds, and many other rites were 
rigorously exacted. 

Now right reason shews us, that the 
forms of religion can only be valuable, as 
they stir up devout affections ; and if they 
have not this effect, they are perfectly use- 
less, as far as the individual is concerned ; 
though they may do some good to others, 
by way of example. 

The chief evil of ceremonies in religion 
is, that men are apt to place in them the 
essence of right worship. For a time they 
may awaken devout sentiments in the mind, 
but soon they come to be observed as mere 
matters of course. This was eminently 
the case with the Jews, whose worship was 
the most formal of any under heaven, and 
could be viewed in no other light than a 
mass of observances without a living prin- 
ciple. It would be the case with every other 
nation, whose worship is similar, and is the 
constant result of all ceremonial worship. 

Among the Jews in our Saviour's time, 
the Pharisees were most remarkable for the 
formality of their worship. This consisted 
of mere parade and empty show. They per- 
formed their religious services in the most 
public places, that they might be admired 

3 



308 



and applauded by men. They for a pre- 
tence made long prayers, chose the chief 
seats at feasts^ and hved greetings in the 
market. 

All this garb of religion they assumed, 
in order to cover their selfish designs, and 
immoral practices ; though, from their 
vast numbers and extensive influence, they 
drew multitudes after them, and chiefly 
directed the taste of the nation in religi- 
ous matters. 

The Jews in general, being fond of what- 
ever was splendid and ostentatious in the 
worship of God, scrupled not to make 
many additions to the ceremonial law, 
This they enlarged in various instances, 
while they abridged the moral precepts. 
To it they were extremely attentive, as of 
the last consequence, while moral duties 
were almost laid aside as unnecessary. 
They exacted tithes of anise, mint and cu- 
min, while they neglected the iveightier mat- 
ters of the law, justice, mei*cy, and faith. 
They strictly obeyed the letter of the di- 
vine prescriptions, while the spirit entirely 
evaporated in their hands. From the rou- 
tine of ceremonial usages, they might ap - 
pear very pious to a superficial observer ; 



309 



but they never considered purity of prin- 
ciple and sincerity of intention, a& essen- 
tial to the worship of God. 

The formality of warship, among the 
Jews, in the time of our Saviour, was almost 
equalled by their degeneracy in morals. 

The Sadducees, who generally reckon- 
ed among their number the men of fortune 
and rank, greatly corrupted the morals of 
the Jews. According to Josephus, they 
were men of loose principles and profligate 
lives, who laughed at religion, and made a 
mock of virtue ; who were strangers to the 
fear of God, and negligent of his service. 

They were the sceptics and infidels of 
the day. We are told in scripture, that 
they denied the existence of angels, the re- 
surrection of the dead, and the immorta- 
lity of the soul ; opinions which tended to 
weaken the restraints of religion, and en- 
ervate the motives to virtue. Those could 
not be very zealous in checking a spirit of 
licentiousness, who neither dreaded the pu- 
nishments, nor expected the rewards, of a 
future state. 

Now from the strong passions of human 
nature, which the disciples of this sect had 
on their side, the influence of their station 



310 



in society, and the acceptableness of their 
sentiments and views to the young, the 
gay, and the thoughtless, they would get 
numbers to follow them, and the mischief, 
which they caused, would take deep root, 
and spread wide among all classes of the 
community. 

Was it not fit, then, that Christ should 
appear at this period, to vindicate the 
laws, given to the Israelites by Moses, to 
rectify the errors, which had crept into the 
religious creed of their descendants, to shew 
the vanity of mere ceremonies in the wor- 
ship of God, and to inculcate moral duties 
on rational and liberal principles. 

From the observations, then, which have 
been made in this and the former dis- 
course, it is abundantly manifest, that 
God sent forth his Son at a fit time ; 
when the aera foretold by the prophets 
had arrived ; when both Jews and Gen- 
tiles were in expectation of an illustrious 
prince, who was to set up his kingdom hi 
the earth ; when peace and free intercourse 
were established through the Roman 
world ; when men could judge of evidence, 
by their uncommon acuteness in reason- 
ing ; when reason, notwithstanding its 



311 



cultivation and power, was unable to re- 
cover men from false notions of God, or 
prevent gross corruptions in worship ; 
when there was the utmost necessity for 
clearing away that rubbish of vile and de- 
structive errors, which had buried both re- 
ligion and morals among God's ancient 
people. 

In all these respects was the wisdom of 
God eminently displayed. Such were the 
reasons, which guided him to this dispen- 
sation of providence. Such were the cir- 
cumstances, which rendered the appear- 
ance of Christ in that age more eligible, 
than in any other. Had not these causes 
preponderated in the mind of God, he 
would have sent forth his Son at an earli- 
er, or a later period ; whenever his pur- 
poses were more likely to be accomplished, 
or the welfare of mankind more fully pro- 
moted. 

Those, who are more presumptuous than 
wise, may cavil at the time when God sent 
forth his Son ; but men of candid and up- 
right minds, adorned with true piety and be- 
coming humility, will be inclined to think, 
that this was the best of all times for such 
an act of his providence, and be fully sa- 



312 



tisfied that no other time could have an- 
swered so well. 

Indeed, whoever seriously considers 
what has been suggested, or enters deep- 
ly into that train of thought to which it 
leads, will not be slow to perceive the in- 
comparable skill displayed in this act of 
the divine government ; or backward to 
acknowledge the divinity of that religion, 
which was then established. Let us on- 
ly remove our prejudices, and truth will 
break in upon us like the light of day. 

The apostle Paul, brethren, had good 
ground to go upon, when he made the 
assertion of the text. It was, not a ran- 
dom observation which he hazarded, when 
he spoke in this style to the Galatians. 
He knew what he affirmed, and why on 
such an occasion. The light of divine 
truth then beamed upon his mind, with- 
out the possibility of error. 

Let us adopt the language of the apos- 
tle, and say, that God sent forth his Son, 
when the fullness of the time was come ; that 
time, on which many considerations of fit- 
ness bore ; that time, when the light which 
shone from Salem's Tower could best ligh- 
ten every land ; that time, when the sun 



313 



of religious and moral truth had ascended 
to its meridian, and could best pour re- 
sistless day over a benighted world. 

On such a conviction our duty is most 
plain. We ought to walk as children of 
the light and of the day ; and not of the 
night and of the darkness. We see clear- 
ly the path in which we are to go, and we 
cannot be excused, if we wander into for- 
bidden ground, or stumble upon rocks, or 
fall into pits. Let us retain the use of our 
senses, and we will never make a wrong 
step, whatever be the length or difficulty 
of our journey * 



* From perusing these two Sermons, On the fitness of the time at which 
Christ appeared upon Earth, Principal Robertson's celebrated Sermon, 
On the situation of the world at the time of Christ's appearance, may oc- 
cur to the reader. The subject is almost the same, but the treatment is 
different. 



DISCOURSE XXII. 



ON THE SOCINIAN, ARMINIAN, CALVINISTIC, 
AND ANTINOMIAN THEORIES OF 
JUSTIFICATION. 

Philip, hi. 9. 

Not having mine own righteousness, which 
is of the law, but that which is through 
the faith of Christ, the righteousness which 
is of God by faith. 

In this verse there are many things which 
have been disputed by christians. Faith, 
law, righteousness of God, are topics in 
this Apostle's writings, concerning which 
men are far from being agreed, and of 
which it is impossible to speak to the sa- 
tisfaction of every party. To enter into 
minute details concerning their meaning, 
or probable meaning, would be foreign to 
the purpose of a sermon, and therefore 
cannot now be attempted. 



316 



The doctrine, contained in the words, 
evidently refers to the method of our ac- 
ceptance with God, as held forth in the 
gospel. It was alleged by the judaisers, 
in the first ages of the christian church, 
that we were accepted with God by a strict 
observance of the law of Moses, and that 
without this no salvation could be obtain- 
ed. This doctrine of the judaisers was 
strenuously opposed by the apostle, and 
a plan of acceptance maintained, which ac- 
corded with the principles of Christianity. 
He was for adhering to Christ and his doc- 
trine, in a point of this magnitude, and not 
the nostrums of these judaisers, that he 
might gain salvation by Christ, and be ac- 
cepted with God through him ; not hav- 
ing a righteousness of Jewish invention, 
but one of christian origin, a righteousness 
not founded on the conceits of men, but 
one th$t was appointed and approved by 
God. 

Now if the doctrine of the gospel be 
true, we must all of us rest our hopes of 
salvation on this righteousness. It is this 
alone which can secure to us the pardon 
of our sins, and effectually recommend us 
to the divine favour ; which can give us 



317 



true peace of conscience while we are here, 
and open up to us the gate of immortal hap- 
piness hereafter. 

But though all christians are agreed a- 
bout the efficacy of this righteousness, ab- 
stractedly considered ; yet they are very 
much divided about the person to whom it 
is to be ascribed. As far as we can discover, 
there are four theories upon the subject, 
which deserve any notice, and thai we may 
throw all possible light upon this controver- 
sy, we shall give a view of these in their or- 
der, with as much impartiality as we can, 
and then subjoin such remarks for be- 
lief and practice, as such a view may sug- 
gest. 

In the matter of our acceptance with 
God, as taught in the gospel ; there are 
some who hold that this righteousness is 
entirely our own performance, and that 
we shall be accepted with God, if we live 
holy and religious lives. Let us only, say 
they, repent of those sins which we com- 
mit from time to time, and employ those 
faculties which God hath given us, with 
vigour and constancy in our duty, and 
we shall not fail of salvation. We can- 
not indeed live up to the purity and 



318 



extent of the divine law ; but as God is 
the author of that law, and the Lord of 
his creatures, he can slacken the rigour 
of its demands, and justify men for their 
sincere though imperfect obedience. To 
suppose otherwise would be abridging 
the power of God, and confining him to a 
system of government, which by no means 
corresponded with those powers of obedi- 
ence, which he has bestowed upon his crea- 
tures. 

Thus, according to them, all men may 
be justified before God, by their sincere 
though imperfect observance of the moral 
law, and they maintain that it was ever 
God's design thus to justify mankind ; but 
because mankind were ignorant of this his 
design, and could get no knowledge of it 
but by revelation, he sent Jesus Christ in- 
to the world to give them information con- 
cerning it, and that they might be fully 
assured of the divinity of his mission, he 
not only wrought miracles, and led a life 
of extraordinary piety and benevolence ; 
but died a martyr to those truths which 
he came to proclaim, and rose again from 
the dead on the third day ; and that after 
his resurrection being taken up into hea- 



319 



ven, and eminently rewarded for his sin- 
gular virtues and sufferings, he was em- 
powered by his Father to forgive sins, and 
raise all good and virtuous men to the 
same state of glory and honour, to which 
he was advanced. 

This scheme, as we see, leaves no more 
to the Mediator, than the offices of pro- 
phet and king of his church. It stands 
upon a basis exceedingly broad, and is in- 
tended to comprehend in its wide embrace 
men of all religions, whether living under 
nature, or under revelation ; but however 
conformable it may seem to the present 
system of things, or gratifying to the ge- 
neral wishes of mankind ; most weighty 
objections have been made against it, and 
these sufficiently confirmed by the gene- 
ral spirit of the gospel. It sets up the 
power of God, in opposition to his holiness 
and justice, overthrows the rectitude and 
authority of his laws, and is infinitely inju- 
rious to the Lord Jesus Christ in his me- 
diatorial capacity. 

There is another part of christians, who 
contend for sincere obedience, in the affair 
of our acceptance with God as taught in 
the gospel, but they dont ascribe so much 



320 



power to man in performing this obedi- 
ence. They say that man is in a fallen 
and degenerate state, and that his facul- 
ties in doing good, from a course of sin, are 
much weakened and impaired, and that 
the divine assistance or grace promised in 
the gospel, is requisite to help and animate 
the sincere christian in his progress towards 
heaven. 

But though they think that man has a 
power within himself to perform acts of 
obedience, which God will accept on the 
terms of the gospel, yet they are far from 
thinking with those of the foregoing per- 
suasion, that God can dispense with the 
strictness of his law, or accept of their sin- 
cere but imperfect obedience, as the ground 
of their justification before him. They 
maintain that Christ obeyed the divine 
law, preceptive and penal, in the stead of 
all mankind, and that this substitution of 
Christ in their room was effected by the 
express appointment of God, and his own 
voluntary undertaking ; and that this per- 
fect obedience of the Saviour is the alone 
meritorious cause of their justification, but 
that the means of obtaining an interest in 
this obedience, is their own sincere though 



321 



imperfect performances, under which they 
include faith, repentance, and every good 
work. 

This scheme takes nothing from Christ 
as Mediator, but leaves untouched his of- 
fices of prophet, priest, and king. It pre- 
serves the authority of the divine laws in- 
violate, and corresponds with every idea, 
which our reasons can form of the divine 
government. It corresponds also with our 
notions of man as a moral and accountable 
being, and enforces the practice of every vir- 
tue, by the strongest possible motives. It has, 
however, been objected to, and we think with 
considerable strength, as propagating the 
doctrine of free agency in our present fallen 
condition, as building upon a foundation in 
the grand affair of our salvation, which 
leans too much to our own righteousness, 
as making the salvation of all men possible, 
while it makes the salvation of no one ab- 
solute and determined. 

There is a third part of christians, who 
hold a scheme of justification in somethings 
diametrically opposite to this. They say, 
that man is not only under a fallen and 
degenerate state, in consequence of the 
disobedience of our first parents, but under 

u 



322 

the thraldom and tyranny of sin from the 
very womb, and wholly unable to do any 
work, which God on the terms of the gos- 
pel can accept ; that their best intentions 
are hypocritical, and their best perfor- 
mances sinful, and therefore displeasing 
unto God. 

Conceiving this, then, to be the present 
condition of man, they say, that God out 
of his good pleasure elected a certain num- 
ber to favour and happiness, and left the rest 
to perish, under that state of condemnation 
and misery to which they had brought 
themselves; that Christ obeyed the di- 
vine laWj preceptive and penal, in the 
stead of the elect alone, and procured for 
them those sanctifying graces, which 
should qualify them for the blessings of 
his purchase ; that faith is the only mean, 
by which they can obtain an interest in 
his all-sufficient obedience, and that this 
faith is wrought in their hearts by his 
word and spirit, at the moment of their 
effectual calling ; that after this period, 
during their probation here, all other sav- 
ing graces, by the use of the same word, 
and agency of the same spirit, are willing- 
ly but irresistably produced ; and that 



323 

these are the fruits of saving faith, an evi- 
dence of their justification, and an earnest 
of that more complete salvation which 
shall be acconiDlished in heaven. 

This scheme has most of the advant- 
ages ot the foregoing, while it obviates all 
its inconveniencies. It exhibits a su- 
blime picture of the Deity, as the sovereign 
disposer of the blessings of redemption, 
and magnifies his mercy and love, in the 
calling, converting, and building up of 
those that shall be justified. It is exceed- 
ingly honourable to the Mediator, as it 
makes his all-perfect obedience the pro- 
curing cause, not only of their acceptance, 
but also their sanctification ; and it is very 
humbling to the vanity and self-sufficiency 
of man, as it wholly excludes him from 
any participation in this business. It has, 
however, been also objected to, as esta- 
blishing an absolute fatality in all human 
affairs, both in the case of the regenerate, 
and those that are not regenerate ; as en- 
couraging some to sin, and driving others 
to despair, since nothing on their part can 
contribute either to their acceptance or 
rejection ; as representing the Deity as 
partial in choosing some, and passing by 



3 



324 



others, when all are equally guilty ; as in- 
sincere in prescribing instruction, worship, 
and duty, which must prove ineffectual to 
the reconcilement of all, except those that 
shall be elected. 

There is a fourth scheme still remaining, 
respecting our justification as taught in the 
gospel Those who favour this scheme say, 
that the elect were not justified at the first 
actings of saving faith, in the day of their ef- 
fectual calling; but, on the contrary some of 
them maintain, that the elect were justified 
from eternity ; others, that they were jus- 
tifiedfrom the time of Christ's death. They 
pretend, that the covenant of grace was 
not made betwixt God and Christ, includ- 
ing the elect, as the foregoing scheme sup- 
poses, but betwixt God and Christ, ex- 
clusive of the elect ; and that he did not 
obey the law in their room as their legal 
head and representative, but that he be- 
lieved for them, repented for them, as well 
as died for them, by a real transference of 
persons and conditions ; and, consequently, 
that they are as righteous as he, and he 
as sinful as they, without any figure. They 
farther say, that the gospel and not the 
law ought to be preached to mankind, 



325 



and that the end of preaching is to beget 
faith, of the sincerity of which they ought 
not to doubt, and that the end of this 
faith is to manifest to them that justifying 
act, which had been passed long before 
they had a being. 

According to this scheme it will follow, 
that all who hear the gospel may be saved, 
since they need only persuade themselves 
that they believe, and they shall be certain 
of their salvation ; that they need take no 
pains about a holy and religious life, nor 
be any ways anxious to reconcile them- 
selves to God ; that God will not be angry 
with, nor punish them for their vices ; and 
that they need not be sorry for, make 
confession of, nor ask pardon for their 
transgressions ; and in a word, that there 
remains nothing for them to do, but to be 
glad, and to rejoice. 

These are some of the consequences of 
this scheme, and they are consequences 
which its patrons generally admit. One 
could scarcely imagine, that such notions 
could enter into the head of any rational 
man, but they are a striking evidence, 
what havock men will make in religion, 
when out of rage for an hypothesis they 



326 



desert the plain road of common sense. 
Such notions, not only encourage a pre- 
sumptuous dependence on the divine mer- 
cy, but tend to destroy all distinction be- 
tween right and wrong, open a door to 
all licentiousness, and expose Christianity 
to the scorn and ridicule of infidels. 

Such are the principal theories concern- 
ing our acceptance with God through a 
Mediator, as held forth in the gospel. 
The two former, though perfectly dissimi- 
lar, as far as regards Christ, proceed upon 
principles which coincide as far as regards 
man. The two latter are so far alike, as 
they abstract every thing from man in 
the affair of our salvation, and devolve it 
upon Christ ; but they so far differ, as the 
one includes faith and obedience in that 
salvation, whereas the other makes them 
arbitrary, not necessary circumstances. Of 
the whole four together, as here enumerat- 
ed, the first and the last have been reject- 
ed by the generality of sober and well- 
meaning christians ; the other two have 
been more universally received, and found 
advocates, both amongst the religious and 
the learned ; amongst those who have zeal- 
ously maintained the mediatorial honours 



32 7 

of the Lord Jesus Christ, as well as those, 
who have wished well to the interests of 
morality. Liberty and necessity, free-will 
and predestination, with which the scrip- 
tural doctrine of justification is closely 
connected, have been disputed in all ages, 
both in the philosophical and theological 
schools, and while truth is of such difficult 
investigation, and the human faculties so 
feeble, probably will be disputed. Men of 
a searching and speculative turn of mind, 
whatever side of the dispute they espouse, 
will never want arguments to justify their 
opinions, and if they be men of integrity 
and conscience, they will ever adhere to 
that side, which shall appear to them the 
most probable, and the most scriptural. 

Indeed, no man whatever, if he wishes 
to know the foundations of his religion, 
can be otherwise determined in this ques- 
tion. In judging of the points in dispute, 
there are no other ways by which [we can 
be directed, but reason and scripture, at 
least, none upon which we can rely. In 
all matters, which are not of simple belief, 
but capable of various constructions, we 
must either be guided by our own reasons 
concerningthem,or elsedesist from thinking 



328 



about them altogether. This is a principle 
so obvious, that all the writings and rea- 
sonings on both sides are addressed to the 
reason of every particular man, and put 
in all those lights, which the writer and 
reasoner can devise, in order to convince 
him. 

But though every man's reason must 
be his guide in the disputed parts of the 
question, yet it must always, according to 
the principles of both sides, be subjected to 
the verdict of scripture. The scriptures 
are the fountains of all religious truths, 
and the infallible rule, by which all religi- 
ous controversies are to be decided. Thi- 
ther all appeal, and thither we must re- 
pair, if we would have satisfaction in this 
article, and see with our own eyes, what 
the spirit in this instance saith unto the 
churches. There, if the point in contro- 
versy be clearly revealed, we will meet 
with it written in the plainest characters, 
or if it be more obscurely delivered, as the 
existing controversy gives cause to suspect, 
it will become us to employ all those 
means, which God hath appointed for the 
discovery of his will ; and if a certain reso- 
lution of the matter be necessary for our 



329 



salvation, he in due time will afford it. In 
the meantime, till he shall be pleased to 
do so, we must be contented like the rest 
of mortals, who have enquired into the 
grounds of this dispute ; to follow that 
side of the controversy, which all things 
considered, shall appear to us the most 
consistent with itself, and the most agree- 
able to scripture. 

But though some points respecting the 
plan of our acceptance with God through a 
Mediator, be dark and difficult to be decid- 
ed, yet by the confession of both parties, 
the most important are clear and determi- 
nate. The great doctrine of the all-perfect 
obedience of Christ, performed to the di- 
vine law as the ground of our justification 
before God, is so plainly and frequently 
inculcated in the scriptures, that every 
one, who looks into them, must instantly 
perceive it ; and though it may, and has 
been disputed, yet it cannot be over- 
turned, without the grossest and most 
palpable abuse of language, without 
the most fallacious and inconclusive rea- 
sonings. It is indeed so closely interwo- 
ven with the style and sentiments of 
scripture, that the truth of both must 



330 



either stand or fall together. To this 
great branch, then, of the gospel method of 
acceptance we may safely adhere, however 
much it may transcend our reasons, and to 
this adherence we ought to be the more 
resolute, as the Socinian notions on this 
head are at least plausible, and tend very 
much to flatter the pride of the human 
understanding. 

Of this also we are sufficiently certain, in 
the gospel method of justification, that good 
works, or acts of piety and virtue, are some 
way or other essential to salvation. All, 
whose minds are not blinded by an undue 
attachment to some particular system, or 
have not forfeited all pretensions to com- 
mon sense, will come thus far in their ac- 
knowledgments, though they may be very 
much divided about that share which they 
have, in procuring our acceptance with our 
Maker. The nature of man will sooner be 
annihilated, and God and Providence dri- 
ven from the universe, before our obliga- 
tions to duty in one shape or another shall 
entirely escape. Men may dispute ever- 
lastingly, whether our actions be free or ne- 
cessary, contingent or foreordained, and ne- 
ver be the wiser for their disputations ; but 



331 



our obligations to good works will stand 
firm and impregnable, on the footing both 
of natural and revealed religion. If this 
truth then be firmly rooted in our minds, 
we will be easily guarded against the crude 
inconsistencies, and licentious tendencies of 
the Antinomian scheme, and however much 
we may revere the name of Jesus, or prize 
the completeness of his redemption ; we 
shall be thoroughly persuaded, that we can 
expect no benefit from him, or do any 
honour to our profession, if we are not 
careful to maintain good works. 

These two parts, relating to the gospel 
method of acceptance, being thus gained 
by the confession of both sides, we have real- 
ly gotten all that is worth the contending 
for in this cause, or at least all that is es- 
sentially useful. The rest perhaps may 
be a dispute about words, when the mean- 
ing is not far separate, or about matters 
which we can never decide, and about which 
men will never agree; but these things 
are plainly and unambiguously stated in 
the scriptures, and to which, upon their 
own principles, they cannot but consent. 
The all-sufficient obedience of the Lord 
Jesus Christ is on all hands the acknow- 



332 

ledged ground of our justification be- 
fore God, and upon the merits of this 
obedience we must wholly rely for pardon 
and acceptance. Our own obedience, com- 
prehending faith and good works, from 
whatever source it may spring, wholly 
from the spirit, or from ourselves by the 
help of the spirit, can have no merit in the 
sight of an all-perfect God, either as a ful- 
filment of his law, or as a compensation 
to his justice, and yet it is of such essential 
importance, that no man can be justified 
without it. 

These matters then being resolved, how 
glorious is that scheme of justification 
which the gospel proposes : It reconciles 
and magnifies all the attributes of God, as 
the governor of man ; exalts and honours 
the Lord Jesus Christ, as the divine and 
only Saviour of his people; brings into view, 
and expresses the operations of that pure 
and celestial spirit, who helps and regene- 
rates the redeemed, and enjoins and en- 
forces every law of the gospel, as condu- 
cive to immortal life and happiness : — A 
scheme which forms an assemblage of ideas, 
the most interesting that ever entered the 
human soul ; a scheme which is truly won- 



333 



derful and sublime, and which shall be the 
song of angels and of men, through eternal 
ages. 

On reviewing the whole, then, we ought 
to be thankful unto God for his great and 
unparalleled wisdom, in contriving such a 
method of salvation, for that boundless and 
inconceivable love, which prompted him to 
send his own dear Son, the Son of his bo- 
som, to work out an all-sufficient righte- 
ousness for our pardon and acceptance. 
We were utterly unworthy of such a dis- 
play of his goodness, and had he been strict 
to mark our iniquities, or judge us accor- 
ding to the merit of our works, we had 
perished for ever from before him ; but all 
that he did in our behalf, was out of his 
free mercy and favour, and what his desire 
of our happiness, and the enjoyment of 
himself, could only move him to perform. 

We ought also to be doubly thankful to 
the Lord Jesus Christ, for that surpassing 
tenderness, that amazing compassion, which 
he manifested to us sinners of mankind 
in this plan of salvation ; for his so readi- 
ly undertaking and executing this great 
and astonishing work ; for his so cheer- 
fully fulfilling the demands of that law. 



384 

which we were unable to fulfil, and bear- 
ing those punishments, which it inflicted 
on the disobedient and transgressor. Great- 
er love hath no man than this, that he should 
die for his friend ; but Christ lived, as well 
as died, for those that were his enemies, 
and shall we cease to love, to admire, and 
to adore him. 

We ought also to be thankful to that 
divine and blessed Spirit, who also contri- 
buted his part in this great and astonish- 
ing method, for purging away those defile- 
ments of sin, which cleave to our nature, 
and rendering our mean and imperfect ser- 
vices acceptable in the beloved ; for helping 
and preparing us for the kingdom of our 
Father, and the joys of an eternal inheri- 
tance. 

Nor ought we only to be grateful for such 
a glorious and wonderful scheme of mercy, 
but we should manifest our gratitude, by a 
general conformity to the laws of the gos- 
pel, as far as we shall be enabled, and pray 
that by the grace of God, assisting and 
exciting us, we may be making nearer and 
nearer approaches to that religious and mo- 
ral perfection, to which we are commanded 
to aspire, and which was so fully exhibited 



335 



in the life of our divine Redeemer, while 
he dwelt upon earth. Far from being ne- 
gligent or slothful, because the grounds of 
our acceptance are accomplished, let us be 
fervent in spirit, serving the Lord ; and, 
while our probation lasts, working out our 
salvation with fear and tremblings for it is 
lie that worketh in us, both to will and to do, 
of his own good pleasure. 

While matters of doubtful discussion 
come under our review, may we always 
exercise that candour and impartiality of 
mind, which becomes sober enquirers after 
truth. However intricate and perplexed 
some points, concerning the method of sal- 
vation through a Mediator, as revealed in 
the gospel, may appear, we ought cordially 
to embrace all those doctrines concerning 
it, which clearly have their foundation in 
scripture, and shew by the rectitude of our 
hearts, and regularity of our lives, that we 
have not received the truth as it is in Jesus 
in vain. 



DISCOURSE XXIII 



ON THE LIVES OF CHRISTIANS CONSIDERED 
AS BETTER THAN THOSE OF 
HEATHENS. 

1 Tim vi. i 

Let as many servants as are under the yoke 
count their own masters worthy of all 
honour \ that the name of God and his doc- 
trine he not blasphemed. 

One of those advices, which the apostle 
gives to Timothy in this epistle, relates to 
that dutiful respect and steady attention, 
which believing servants were to pay to 
unbelieving masters, that Christianity 
might not suffer in the opinion of the 
world. Men were already disposed to 
speak evil of that religion, which they 
professed ; and much more would they 
do so, if they found them neglectful of those 



x 



338 



duties, which even common sense and the 
defective morality of those times taught to 
be essential. 

While Timothy was to urge believing 
servants, to honour unbelieving masters, 
that they might not bring a reproach on 
that religion which they had embraced ; it 
will easily be perceived, that we, in these 
latter times, ought to be punctual in all 
duties, for the credit of our common faith. 
In our day masters and servants common- 
ly believe, and in a christian audience of 
this description, it will be most useful to 
consider the precept on the broadest 
ground. We shall therefore discourse up- 
on the words, as if the apostle had said : let 
no christians fail in any one duty, that the 
name of God and his doctrine be not blas- 
phemed. 

It is much to be lamented that a reli- 
gion so excellent as that of Christ, should 
be so little recommended by the lives of 
its professors. When we consider the pu- 
rity and perfection of the christian doc- 
trine, the wise and upright conduct of 
Christ and his apostles, the good instruc- 
tions which we hear on the times of pub- 
lic worship, and the other means which 



339 



we enjoy for recalling the truths of religion 
to our minds ; it is truly astonishing that 
there should be so much vice in the world. 

This disagreement betwixt the doctrine 
of Christ and the practice of its professors, 
infidels and libertines are ready to seize, 
and turn to the disadvantage of Christian- 
ity itself. Because the lives of christians 
are not regulated by the precepts of Chris- 
tianity, they infer that it is not of divine ori- 
gin. How can that religion come from God, 
say they, when it has not more influence 
on the temper and conduct of its votaries, 
than other religions have on those that pro- 
fess them, though confessedly of human 
contrivance ? 

This is a very popular objection against 
our religion, and on first view would seem 
to be well founded. One proof of its 
truth is usually made to consist in the 
excellent lives of the first christians; 
whatever may be its force, it may with 
some plausibility be contended, that it 
is counter-balanced by the bad lives of 
christians in these latter times. At any 
rate, whether men have reason on their 
side or not, the bad lives of christians 
will lead them to think, that Christianity 



3 



340 



is false, or a mere human contrivance ; 
that it Was only designed to soothe the 
vanity, or gratify the ambition* of those 
who devised and support it. 

This is a subject which every disciple 
of Christ would, wish to be placed in a 
clear light, and in treating of it, we shall 
endeavour to establish two points ; first, 
that the lives of christians in general 
are better than those of heathens ; se- 
condly, supposing that they are not, no 
proof can be drawn from that circumstance 
to shew, that their religion does not come 
from God. 

The object of both propositions is to 
prove the excellence of Christianity, and 
point out its usefulness to the world. In 
other words, it will be found well qualified 
to enlighten the understandings of men, 
improve their hearts, and direct their lives. 

On entering on the first of these points, 
it must be confessed, that it is very dif- 
ficult to ascertain the real state of mo- 
rals, either among christians or heathens ; 
though we have no manner of doubt, that 
the lives of the greater part of christians 
are much better than those of mere heath- 



341 



ens, We allow that there is no vice among 
heathens, which has not been practised by 
some, who call themselves christians ; es- 
pecially by those, who have the means of 
gratifying every appetite in their power, 
and among whom it is fashionable to laugh 
at religion, and trample under their feet 
every rule of morality ; but among those 
who believe the doctrines of Christianity, 
and attend on its institutions ; who are 
guided by its precepts, and swayed by its 
motives ; the case is different. 

Our ideas on this head, however, will be 
more clearly apprehended, and their impor- 
tance more strongly felt, if we arrange them 
into propositions ; and, fast, we may infer, 
that the lives of christians are better than 
those of heathens, from comparing their re- 
ligious doctrines. 

The speculative divinity of christians is 
the noblest that can be conceived, and who- 
ever believes its truth will imbibe its 
spirit. None of its doctrines are absurd, 
and whoever knows their reasonableness, 
will yield to their influence. What the 
understanding considers as true, will im- 
perceptibly get hold of the heart, and dis- 
cover its power in the life. 



342 



The wiser heathens of ancient Greece 
and Rome might be persuaded, that there 
was only one God, but they could never 
hinder the multitude from believing a 
plurality of gods. These they increased 
to an incredible number, and parcelled out 
the government of the world to gods of 
families and nations, gods of the hills and 
vallies, gods of the land, sea, and infernal 
regions. 

About these gods they had the lowest 
and most grovelling ideas. They not only 
made them to have a beginning, but to be 
born of earthly parents ; and while they im- 
puted to them the human defects of igno- 
rance, fear, and want ; they subjected them 
to vices the most characteristic of human 
depravity. According to their own ac- 
counts of them, they were addicted to 
cruelty, bloodshed, jealousy, transports 
of anger, thefts, drunkenness, and vices 
which cannot be mentioned in a religious 
discourse. 

Such notions about the origin, charac- 
ter, and conduct of their gods, would 
have great influence upon their lives. The 
strongest motives to virtue spring from 
those opinions, which men entertain of the 



343 



nature and attributes of that being, in 
whose hands they are, and whose favour 
they wish to secure ; and if the ancient 
heathens had the opinions now stated a- 
bout their gods, do we think that they 
would pretend to a virtue superior to 
theirs? or not justify their acts of wicked- 
ness by their example ? The notions, 
which they entertained of them, tended 
to corrupt, and xio doubt corrupted great 
numbers. The more pious a man was a- 
mong them* the worse he would be- 
come. Every species of immorality, into 
which he might be inclined to run, was re- 
commended or excused by a correspondent 
immorality, in some one of these divine 
beings whom he adored. 

If we leave the polished nations of anti- 
quity, and descend to those modern na- 
tions, which the light of Christianity has 
not reached ; we will find the great 
mass of the people equally corrupted. To 
all those, whether civilized or barbarous; 
we would not deny the virtues that belong 
to them. The Chinese may be praised 
for his industry, the Hindoo for his docili- 
ty and gentleness, and the native American 
for his passive courage ; but it must at the 



344 

same time be allowed, that their good are 
balanced by their bad qualities ; most of 
which are notorious to those who visit 
them, and well known to men, who en- 
quire into the character and manners of 
nations. 

The religious creed of all these nations 
is a plurality of gods, and that of a kind 
not the most dignified and philosophical ; 
and when the attributes of God are not 
known, or grossly misrepresented by any 
people ; the temper and conduct of men 
so unenlightened, cannot be well regulated. 
When the fountain of all religious princi- 
ples, the knowledge of a God, is miserably 
corrupted ; will not the lives of persons so 
mistaken, about the being to whom they 
are accountable, be corrupted also ? 

Secondly, we will think christians better 
than heathens, if we compare their religi- 
ous institutions. 

Among all heathens, ancient and mo- 
dern, ridiculous and shocking ceremonies 
in religion have prevailed. The bloody 
and indecent rites, current among them 
formerly and at present; would vitiate 
and degrade the morals of all those who 
practised them, or even beheld them. 



345 



Justice, mercy, benevolence, and truth, 
are no doubt necessary to the good order 
of society, in heathen as well as chris- 
tian countries ; and these virtues may 
have been cultivated formerly, as well as 
latterly, by the heathens ; but wherever 
the religious rites have almost always been 
so contrary to the just, the decent, and the 
merciful, the morals of the community 
must have been very much contaminated. 
When the fountain was not pure, the 
streams behoved to be polluted. 

On this ground it will not be difficult 
to account for those sanguinary and re- 
vengeful passions, which are strongly 
marked in the character of most heathens ; 
as well as those horrid and almost incredi- 
ble refinements of barbarity, which they 
are capable of inflicting on professed ene- 
mies, and even on friends, who have in- 
curred their hatred. 

From the influence of abominable usages 
in religion christians are fortunately free. 
It has banished licentiousness from the 
temples of religion, and surrounded sa- 
cred rites with the utmost purity and re- 
verence. It has appointed a day of rest 
for the labouring classes ; and, on that day, 



346 



ordered all ranks to appear before God, as 
worshippers and servants. 

Indeed the excellency of its institutions 
has been generally acknowledged, and if 
w r e strictly observe its rites, they will cor- 
rect and strengthen our principles. If 
the well be pure, so will the streams. If the 
observances be good, so will the morals. 

Thirdly i that christians are better than 
heathens, may be argued from their moral 
precepts. 

No directions to a holy life, equal to 
those of the gospel, are found among the 
heathens. Some may be excellent, and 
beautifully expressed, but they are inferior 
to those of Christ and his apostles. 

Wherever Christianity is known or valu- 
ed, it refines the taste and temper of its 
professors. It produces a spirit of kind- 
ness liberality and justice among all that 
embrace it. It has raised one half of the 
human species to their proper rank in so- 
ciety, and, by abolishing polygamy and frivo- 
lous divorces, made woman the friend and 
companion of man. In many instances it 
has softened the rigour of law, and lessen- 
ed the cruelty of war ; greatly discouraged, 
and partially abolished slavery; founded 



347 



schools for the ignorant, provided perma- 
nent support for the poor, erected hospitals 
for the sick, and cheered the dying with 
the hope of immortality. 

Wherever Christianity has prevailed, man 
has been reared up with the greatest care, 
shaped to beauty and excellence, and 
moulded to righteousness after the divine 
perfections. He has been planted in the 
vineyard of the Lord, and watered with the 
word of truth. Every thing, consistent 
with wisdom, has been done for his im- 
provement, and if he be not shamfully 
neglectful of the means, the end will be 
accomplished. 

There is no inefficacy in Christianity, as 
a system of rules, to direct his conduct ; 
but there is often a want of will in him to 
submit to its directions. He may profit lit- 
tle, whatever care has been taken of him ; 
but he is not abandoned to mere chance, 
as some suppose those to have been, who 
never heard of the gospel, nor lived under 
its influence. 

The worship which God requires, and the 
laws which he prescribes, shew the beauty 
and importance of sanctity of heart and 
life, whether God, others, or ourselves, are 



348 



concerned. God is a spirit, and they that 
worship him, must worship him in spirit and 
in truth. The grace of God, which bring- 
eth salvation, hath appeared unto all men ; 
teaching them to deny ungodliness and 
worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteous- 
ly, and piously in the world. 

To a near observer, the lives of christi- 
ans, when not so good as they ought, ap- 
pear very bad ; because the rule of duty, 
which Christianity prescribes, is so excellent 
and well known, that the lest deviation 
is observed. 

Besides, there are always some followers 
of Christ, who have the strongest sense of 
religious duty, and when they behold a 
more glaring act of impiety, they are struck 
with horror, and think no wickedness, like 
that of christians. 

The chief virtues of the christian life, 
too, are of such a nature, as not to ob- 
trude themselves on public notice. Con- 
tent, self-denial, humility, meekness, and 
similar virtues are seldom visible to the 
world. The best christians are often 
not known to be such, because they make 
no ostentation of their goodness. They 



349 



are willing to be good, without courting the 
reputation of being so from men. 

To these considerations may be added, 
that we see the wicked acts of christians, 
whereas we only hear of the wicked 
acts of heathens. A true report of these 
no doubt may be made, but if we ourselves 
witnessed them, and compared them with 
those of christians, the result, we believe, 
would be very much in favour of the lat- 
ter. 

Fourthly, and lastly, The lives of chris- 
tians will be thought better than those of 
heathens, if the motives to virtue among 
each be compared. 

Indeed the heathens could hardly be 
said to have encouragements to virtue. 
They were swayed by a heartless and de- 
grading superstition ; but of motives, suit- 
ed to the reason or wants of men, they 
were utterly destitute. 

Among christians, however, the obser- 
vance of a good life is enforced by motives, 
addressed to all the springs of action, to 
the principles of imitation and gratitude, 
to the hopes and fears of men. The au- 
thority of God, the example of Christ, and 
assistance of the Spirit ; the rewards and 



350 



punishments of a future state, are enforc- 
ed in the gospel, and to all or either of these 
we cannot be indifferent. 

Such are the strong guards, which Chris- 
tianity has provided for a right conduct in 
life ; and whoever properly feels the force 
of its sanctions, cannot be carelessly or dar- 
ingly wicked. The influence or power of 
these must win many to righteousness, or 
at least prompt them to a strict decency 
in their behaviour. 

The decency of behaviour, observable a- 
mong most christians, is unparalleled among 
heathens. Even among religious sceptics, 
and those who retain only the name of 
christians ; there is a decorum of charac- 
ter, which you will in vain seek among 
those, who are strangers to our religion and 
its professors. There may be as little of 
real Christianity among those professing 
it, as can well be supposed ; but while the 
service of God is regularly attended, and 
its supporters countenanced ; men will be 
under the necessity of keeping up the ap- 
pearance of virtue, and vice be obliged to 
hide its head in privacy and retirement. 

Among those who keep up the appear- 
ance of virtue only, there may be great 



351 



room for improvement. Many, who pro- 
fess to follow Christ, it must be confessed, 
are a corrupted and degenerate race. 
Even vices may be practised, which hea- 
thens would be ashamed to acknowledge ; 
vices which greatly debase our natures, 
and if God prevent not, will ruin our 
souls. 

Imperfect, however, as the lives of all 
christians are, and bad as some of them 
may be, they would be infinitely worse, if 
the restraints which Christianity imposes 
were withdrawn, and men allowed to follow 
their own inclinations. In that case, a sense 
of morality might be preserved among some, 
as it was among the more considerate hea- 
thens, but there is every reason to believe, 
that the generality would soon come to 
live without God in the world, and every 
enormity which disgraces barbarous and 
uncultivated men, get footing among those, 
who are now civilized and highly refined. 

On all these grounds, then, we have no 
hesitation in saying, that the lives of chris- 
tians are much better than those of hea- 
thens. Notwithstanding all their defects, 
christians greatly surpass heathens, in that 
luminous and philosophical idea of a deity. 



352 



superintending all human affairs, to which 
they have attained ; in that complexion of 
the conscience, or moral principle, by which 
they are characterised, prompting them to 
perform most of those duties, which they 
owe to God, men, and themselves ; in the 
possession of almost every quality, which 
can exalt human nature, and adorn civiliz- 
ed life. 

All this superiority is in a great mea- 
sure to be ascribed to their religion. Hea- 
thens have all the faculties of human na- 
ture in as great perfection as christians, 
and are as capable of intellectual and mo- 
ral improvement, when circumstances are 
favourable ; but they lie under disadvan- 
tages in this respect, and christians are 
chiefly indebted to that religious education 
which they have received, and the public 
instructions of the gospel which they hear, 
for that excellency of character and con- 
duct above heathens, which they possess. 



DISCOURSE XXIV. 



ON CHRISTIANITY CONSIDERED AS TRUE, 
HOWEVER BAD MAY BE THE LIVES 
OF ITS PROFESSORS, 

1 Tim, vi. i 

Let as many sonants as are under the yoke 
count their own masters worthy of all 
honour, that the name of God and his doc- 
trine be not blasphemed. 

Christianity has been of great ser- 
vice to those who have embraced it. All 
reasonable men believe, that the lives of 
christians are better than those of heathens; 
and they arrive at this belief, by comparing 
their religious institutions and doctrines, 
their moral precepts and encouragements 
to duty. 

But let the lives of christians be ever so 
defective, Christianity is not false, Let 



Y 



354 



the difference, between the rule of duty 
and the conduct which they follow, be ever 
so great ; the evidence of our religion is 
not weakened, or any proof afforded that 
God is not its author. This is the second 
point, which we are to establish from 
the text, and to which we are now to at- 
tend. 

First, then, our religion was never in- 
tended to compel men to be virtuous. 

Christianity tells us what the rule of 
duty is, and the advantages of attending 
to it, and the disadvantages of neglecting 
it ; but it does not force any to conform 
to it. Men are endowed with a power of 
self-determination, and Christianity moves 
and solicits, but does not constrain or over- 
power. It sets good and evil before them, 
but leaves it to their own will, whether 
they will choose the good, or refuse the 
evil. The language of Joshua to the Is- 
raelites is the language of Christianity to 
men. If it seem evil unto you to serve the 
Lord, choose ye this day, whom ye will 
serve, whether the gods whom your fathers 
served, who were on the other side of the 
flood, or the gods of the Amorites. in whose 
land ye dwell 



355 



If it were to do otherwise, there might 
be cause to blame Christianity. Men 
might justly believe that it did not come 
from God, when it was found to be at va- 
riance with those principles, which he has 
planted in our frame, and which cannot be 
rooted out, without destroying our nature. 
God does nothing in vain, and in this as 
well as other respects, there is a close and 
striking harmony betwixt what he has 
taught by Jesus Christ, and what he him- 
self declares, by those intellectual and mo- 
ral powers, which he has given us. 

If therefore christians do not lead such 
lives as they ought, if they oppose the 
plain letter of the law, if they regard less 
the rewards of righteousness hereafter, 
than the pleasures of sin here, whatever 
ruin this conduct may bring upon them 
in the end, they are acting like moral agents 
in a state of trial, who often prefer pre- 
sent enjoyments to distant happiness, 
though infinitely superior, when they hap- 
pen to interfere. 

Let no man, on this account, charge the 
law of God with feebleness, or want of pow- 
er to accomplish its end. It is the strong- 
est which can be given, whether we con- 

3 



356 



sider the nature of its sanctions, or the 
authority of the lawgiver. God may coun- 
teract the wills of men, if he thinks pro- 
per, but that is not the way in which he 
rules them at present. Now he prompts 
them by goodness, and awes them by pow- 
er ; but he does not blindly lead, or resist- 
lessly overpower. They are formed to 
know the truth, and feel the obligation of 
duty ; but the passions are so ungovern- 
able, and temptations so frequent, that 
they often err, and commit sin. 

Such in many cases is their conduct, 
however injudicious ; but no argument can 
be drawn from it, to disprove the truth of 
their religion. It abundantly declares the 
folly of such conduct ; but surely it is very 
unreasonable to make such conduct, the 
folly of which it declares, the test of its 
divine origin. 

We see, then, that compulsion is never 
resorted to by the gospel. It deals only in 
exhortation. It reasons and expostulates. 
It wishes men to attend, but their atten- 
tion is voluntary Wisdom speaks, but 
often her words are fruitless. 



357 



Secondly, If Christianity does not pre* 
vent the bad lives of its professors, no other 
thing can prevent them. 

It deals with men, as beings who have 
a stake in the future w r orld, depending on 
their conduct in the present ; who are ca- 
pable of knowing and attending to the 
truth ; of learning and practising duty ; of 
discovering the most effectual methods of 
attaining happiness, and avoiding misery. 

In all this no fault is imputable to Chris- 
tianity. If plainness in the precepts, or 
force in the motives ; if the authority of 
God, the love of Christ, the assistance of 
the spirit, or the happiness of men them- 
selves here and hereafter, can make them 
wise and good, Christianity will have this 
effect ; but if men disregard the rule of 
duty, resist the warnings of conscience, ne- 
glect the reading and hearing of the word, 
and the other means of improvement, with 
which they are favoured : Christianity can- 
not regulate their lives : instructions are 
altogether useless ; arguments are utterly 
unavailing: they are men dead in tress- 
passes and sins. 

It is a curious but indisputable fact, 
confirmed by daily experience, that the 



358 



matters, suggested by our religion, are the 
noblest that can be conceived, calculated 
to rouse up all our hopes, to alarm all our 
fears, to work upon us by gratitude, to 
influence us by interest ; and yet in many 
cases, they cannot sufficiently command 
our attention, or induce us to act as men, 
who have souls to be saved. 

We may be punctual in outward ob- 
servances, obey positive commands, be pre- 
sent at all the institutions of our religion, 
and exact in all its forms ; and yet not live 
as men, who are bound to be faithful ; who 
are to be good here, in order to be happy 
hereafter. 

With too many Christianity does not 
reach the heart. They look upon it, we 
are persuaded, as an affair of the day, as a 
thing that comes in course of business ; but 
what is its great aim, and to which it bends 
all its power, they never come to a se- 
rious resolution, to subdue their unruly 
passions, or restrain their evil propensities. 

Without such self-command, however, 
they can never be fitted for happiness. 
They must be built up in faith and obe- 
dience here, before they can enjoy plea- 
sure or delight hereafter. They must cul- 



359 



tivate piety and virtue in the present 
world, before they can see God, or be pro- 
per companions of angels or glorified men, 
in the world to come. 

If men then do not conform their lives 
to the precepts of Christianity, they them- 
selves, and not Christianity, are to blame. 
If they will not hear the word that is spo- 
ken, nor obey the command that is given ; 
they themselves are answerable for their 
conduct, and not their religion. No rea- 
sonable man will insist, that it should make 
them pious and virtuous, whether they at- 
tend to it or not ; whether they sleep a- 
way their time in thoughtless security, or 
are awfully alive to its remonstrances. The 
whole weight of its authority has not been 
withheld, but it is not necessary for its ho- 
nour, that they should reform. It is suffi- 
cient that it leaves them without excuse. 

Our religion then may be divine, though 
it do not make men wise and good. 
It cannot be accused, if they are stupid 
and obstinate. It does all that in rea- 
son can be expected, and if it does no more, 
every thing else will be ineffectual. 

Thirdly, those, from whose bad lives in- 
fidels and libertines object to our religion, 



360 



for the most part have no more of Christi- 
anity than the name. 

In every society there are some, who are 
a dishonour to it ; who break its laws 
without scruple, and persist in their folly, 
however much their reputation may suf- 
fer ; who attend to present gratifications, 
but never calculate upon consequences. 

So it fares with the church of Christ. 
Among the multitudes that are called by 
his name, all cannot be good christians. 
Even among the twelve apostles, there was 
one traitor ; and it is but fair to suppose, 
that through Christendom a similar pro- 
portion of unworthy characters undertake 
to follow him. All are not Israel, who are 
of Israel Many outwardly adhere to Christ, 
because their fathers did so before them, 
and it is the fashion of the times in which 
they live ; without understanding his doc- 
trines, or studying his character, imbibing 
his spirit, or imitating his example. Such 
persons yield to every sinful appetite, and 
run into every vicious excess ; without 
knowing, or at least caring, whether Christ 
has forbidden such conduct or not ; suf- 
fering the world to think that they be- 
long to him, while in reality they belong 
to a different master. 



361 



These persons much injure our religion 
in the eyes of the world, and cause it to 
be despised and spoken against ; give se- 
rious concern to its supporters, and ex- 
pose it to rude attacks from its adver- 
saries ; but were it not for their unrestrain- 
ed vice, and bold defiance to all the rules 
of morality, infidels and libertines would 
be reduced to silence, if they did not be- 
lieve and reform. 

What gives a true idea of these false 
christians is, that they are the first to join 
in the cry, which they themselves have rais- 
ed against Christianity. In every company 
they are ready to preach up the objection 
to its truth, from the bad lives of its pro- 
fessors. Whenever a fair opportunity pre- 
sents, they are eager to mark the differ- 
ence, between the doctrines of Christ and 
the practice of his followers. When none 
are thinking of the matter, they spy out 
the faults of christians, and animadvert 
upon them with great severity. 

This way of acting cannot be mistaken. 
They inwardly hate Christ and his reli- 
gion ; and when they are more off their 
guard than usual, they give way to their 
feelings, that they may justify their rejec- 



362 



tion of its belief, and shew all the world, 
that they are not guilty of worse vices, than 
those who profess that religion. 

Is it not very unfair then to object to 
Christianity, from the bad lives of men, who 
in fact are no christians ? If objections are 
made to it on this ground, let it be from the 
bad lives of those, who really believe its 
doctrines, and not those who are concealed 
infidels ; of those, who through frailty of 
nature, and force of temptation, fall into sin ; 
and not those, who are unprincipled hy- 
pocrites, or avowed voluptuaries. 

Lastly, The bad lives of christians are 
so far from shewing the falsehood of Chris- 
tianity, that they are a strong confirmation 
of its truth. 

The great corruptions of christians are 
particularly foretold by Christ and his apos- 
tles. When the Son of Man cometh, says 
our Saviour, shall he find faith on the 
earth ? The spirit speaketh expressly, saith 
Paul, that in the latter times, some shall de- 
part from the faith, giving head to seduc- 
ing spirits, and doctrines of dcemons, speak- 
ing lies in hypocrisy, having their co?isciences 
seared with a hot iron. — and elsewhere he 
observes : This know, that in the fast days 



363 



perilous times shall come, for men shall be 
lo vei's of themselves, covetous, boasters, proud, 
blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthank- 
ful, unholy, without natural affection, truce 
breakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, 
despisers of those who are good, traitors, 
heady, high minded, lovers of pleasures more 
than lovers of God ; having a form of godli- 
ness, but denying^ the power thereof; from 
such turn away. For of this sort are they, 
who creep into houses, and lead captive silly 
women, laden with sins, led atvay with di- 
verse lusts ; ever learning, and never able to 
come to the knowledge of the truth : Now as 
Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses; so 
do these also resist the tr uth, men of corrupt 
minds, reprobate concerning the faith. Pe- 
ter and Jude speak in the same strain 
There shall be mockers in the last time, who 
shall tvalk after their own ungodly lusts ; 
are the words of Peter ; and J ude has nearly 
the same words ; In the last days scoffers 
shall come, walking after their own lusts. 

Such are the enormous vices, which 
were to arise in the latter days, among 
those who thought themselves christians, 
or professed that they were influenced 
by that religion, which Christ found- 



364 



ed; vices foretold by our Lord himself, 
and three of his apostles. 

We are aware that it may be said, that 
the passages, in which these vices are de- 
tailed, refer to some remarkable defection 
in the christian church, and not so much to 
the lives of men in ordinary times, who 
do not act by the spirit of the gospel. 

We do not altogether deny, that this 
is the reference made ; but what we con- 
tend for is, that, when the lives of christi- 
ans, whether in ordinary or extraordinary 
times, arrive at such enormity, as to be 
caught hold of by the enemies of our faith, 
for overturning it, they are foretold in 
these passages. 

Thus, without any unnecessary refine- 
ment, the bad lives of christians have been 
foretold by Christianity ; and if the fulfil- 
ment of prophecy be one proof of that re- 
ligion, the bad lives of christians, which it 
has foretold, prove its truth. 

From all the views, then, which have 
been taken of this part of the subject, we 
must either believe Christianity to be the 
word of God ; or, if our faith cannot go that 
length, we must at least acknowledge, that 
its falsehood must be proved by other ar- 



365 



gtiments, than the bad lives of those, who 
embrace its doctrines, as the guide of their 
practice. 

As infidels and libertines, however, judge 
of our religion by our lives, and, when 
these are bad, blaspheme God and his doc- 
trine, we must give them no occasion. If 
we pretend to be friendly to the reli- 
gion of Jesus, but undermine its influ- 
ence by our bad conduct ; and if w 7 e per- 
sist in our folly, notwithstanding the ill 
use which we know to be made of it ; 
w r e must be reckoned greater enemies to 
Christianity, than those who openly oppose 
it. An infidel, by his specualtive argu- 
ments, may kill his thousands, but a chris- 
tian, whose life is highly immoral, kills his 
ten thousands. If ever Christianity fall, it 
will be by the bad lives of its professors, 
and not the assaults of the infidel. 

This is no chemerical doctrine. Exam- 
ple is always more powerful than precept, 
and so will it be in turning men away from 
the faith once delivered to the sai?its. By 
our base and unw r orthy conduct, some are 
confirmed in infidelity, and others encour- 
aged to it. Through us men come first 
to doubt of its truth, then to laugh at and 



366 



cry it down, and at length revile its noble 
and beneficent Author with the bitterest 
malignity. 

Such sarcasms and aspersions do not 
really detract from the excellency of Chris- 
tianity, or disprove the divine mission of 
Jesus ; but, as they have great power in 
lessening the belief of our religion, and 
the acknowledgment of its Author ; it 
must be confessed, that our immoral con- 
duct is a most effectual method of ba- 
nishing Christianity out of the world. A 
luckier scheme was never hit upon for esta- 
blishing the kingdom of darkness. From 
no expedient could the foe of mankind 
hope to reap such a harvest of converts. 

Avoid therefore a conduct so pernici- 
ous ; a conduct monstrously ungrateful, as 
well as daringly disrespectful, to God and 
Christ ; most hurtful to the reception and 
progress of Christianity in the world ; very 
ruinous to the souls of those, who shall be 
led by it to deny the Lord that hath 
bought them ; and highly dangerous to 
ourselves, from heaping upon our heads a 
load of guilt, which we will one day have 
to answer for at the tribunal of God. 



367 



How ought we to refrain from a course 
of life, pregnant with such mischief ! How 
ought we to be what we give out to the 
world! How ought we to act according to 
the laws of the gospel; to attend to its in- 
structions, and adorn them by our example; 
to profit by the lessons of wisdom which we 
receive, and evince the benefit of a gospel 
ministry by the fruits of a holy practice. 
Let Christianity have upon us all the power 
which could be wished. Let the difference, 
betwixt the doctrine of Christ and the 
practice of its professors, not be remarked 
in our case. Let us not thwart the ten- 
dency of our religion to enlighten and re- 
fine, to make wise and good, by any ble- 
mish in our character and conduct. 

Such care on our part will highly con- 
duce to our honour. Whatever opposi- 
tion our religion meet with, our bad 
lives will give no handle of opposing it. 
We will have the satisfaction of knowing, 
that God and his doctrine has not been blas- 
phemed by any misconduct of ours. From 
our perseverance in piety and virtue, we 
will perceive, that his attributes have been 
honoured, and his service promoted ; the 



3(38 



truth vindicated, and the futility of its op- 
ponents exposed and overthrown. 

Thus is the character of our religion 
preserved entire and unsullied. Thus is our 
faith in its divine origin not shaken, nor 
the force of its encouragements weakened. 
Thus is its influence upon our hearts and 
lives triumphant, and our nature regene- 
rated. Thus is the understanding instruct- 
ed, and the will directed. Thus is it the 
power of God unto salvation to all that be- 
lieve.* 



* In these two Discourses, On the obligation of Christians to take care, 
that through their failure in duty God and his doctrine be not blasphemed ; 
some of Sterne's ideas and phrases have inadvertently been adopted. The 
Author happened to study Sterne's Sermons, very carefully 25 years ago, 
about which time these two discourses were composed. 



DISCOURSE XXV, 



ON THE LIBERTY WHICH CHRIST 
COMMUNICATES TO HIS 
DISCIPLES. 

John viii. 36. 

If the Son, titer ef ore, shall make you free? 
ye shall he free indeed. 

# 

Many are the blessings which we en- 
joy by the gospel. One of the greatest of 
these is that freedom, which it promises 
to those who embrace it ; the truth shall 
make you free ; a freedom which it even en- 
joins as a duty ; stand fast in the liberty 
wherewith Christ hath made us free, and 
be not entangled again in the yoke of bon- 
dage. Nay the gospel itself, which pro- 
mises and enjoins it, is called by way of 
eminence, the royal law of liberty. 



z 



370 



Some weak christians have supposed, 
that this freedom, bestowed by the gospel, 
superceded the subordinations of civil so- 
ciety, and relieved from the restraints of 
civil government ; but there is nothing, 
either in the doctrine or example of Christ, 
which leads to such a supposition. He 
himself, as well as the apostles, submitted 
to the laws of the Jews and Romans ; and 
they uniformly taught, that the powers 
that be are of God, and that we are to 
submit to the ordinances of the state, not 
only for wrath, but conscience sake; not 
only from interest, but duty. 

In this matter, therefore, the gospel 
does not in the least encroach upon the 
civil power. It is not political, but moral 
and intellectual liberty, which it teaches. 
While it permits statesmen to amend 
laws, and improve constitutions ; it diffuses 
a spirit among its votaries, which makes 
them truly free. This liberty the slave 
may enjoy in his fetter, as well as the 
monarch on his throne. This liberty the 
arm of power cannot reach, or the iron- 
hand of oppression crush. It is a liberty 
quite independent of this world and its 
rulers. 



371 

In order that we may have a clear idea of 
that liberty, which we enjoy by the gospel, 
we shall mention and briefly illustrate 
four general views, in which we are made 
free ; stating, as we go along, the influence 
which these ought to have on our walk 
and conversation. 

First, the gospel frees us from the bur- 
den of ceremonial observances in religion. 

The burden of this kind, which the an- 
cient people of God had to undergo, was 
almost intolerable. The objects, which 
disqualified them for waiting at the altar 
of religion, were thick on every hand ; and 
these it was almost impossible to avoid. The 
precepts, touch not, taste not, handle not, 
met them wherever they turned their view. 
The observances, to which they were sub- 
jected, were so numerous as scarcely to be 
remembered ; and they were under the ut- 
most anxiety, lest they should forget them. 

All these were mere bodily actions, and 
certainly not acceptable to God, with- 
out the virtues of the heart. To the Is- 
raelites, however, they were indispensable, 
and the apostles every where describe the 
law, which enjoined them, as a yoke, which 
neither they nor their fathers could bear. 



3 



372 



No less intolerable was the yoke of cere- 
monies among the heathens. Some of them 
were of the most savage and cruel nature. 
The worshipper had often to give the 
fruit of his body for the sin of his soul, and 
cause his helpless inoffensive child to pass 
through the fire to the sanguinary dei- 
ty, whom he adored. The offering of cri- 
minals in sacrifice was not uncommon, and 
of innocent men, when criminals could not 
be procured. Those practices were resort- 
ed to, not only by ruder tribes of men, 
but by the polished nations of Greece and 
Rome. 

But the worshipper of the paltry, selfish, 
cruel, and revengeful deities among the 
heathens, had to go through trifling, un- 
meaning, and debasing, as well as unnatu- 
ral and terrible ceremonies ; and, after the 
utmost exactness in observing them, he 
could not be more certain than before, that 
their favour was obtained. Having no 
clear and pointed declaration of their 
will on this important head, he converted 
every the most insignificant occurrence of 
his life, into an omen of their displea- 
sure ; and the apprehension of their 



373 



wrath, especially among the great body of 
the people, subsided by degrees into settl- 
ed terror. Even among those, who thought 
themselves wise, and pretended to an ac- 
curate observation of nature, the case was 
not much better. If they had strength of 
mind to rise above the dread of supersti- 
tion, they sunk into all the gloom of scep- 
ticism, and were condemned to the dreary 
and distracting task of doubting on subjects 
of the last importance to human happiness. 

Such was the slavery, imposed on the 
rude as well as polished nations of antiquity, 
by their religious rites ; and similar is the 
slavery of those modern nations, to which 
Christianity is not yet known. Among 
these it is not unfrequent to worship 
the evil principle, who, along with the 
good, is supposed to take a share in the 
government of the world ; and ridiculous 
and shocking ceremonies still prevail in 
that worship which they pay to their gods. 
Any person, acquainted with the religious 
ceremonies of the African, the Hindoo, 
the Tartar, and native American, will easily 
perceive the justness of these remarks. 

The establishment of Christianity in 
the w T orld has tended greatly to narrow, 



374 

and overthrow the reign of superstition. 
Wherever its belief and spirit have been 
propagated and imbibed, it has struck its 
bright and cheering rays into the senti- 
ments and usages of men. To those who 
have studied, and understand its genius, it 
represents the deity as a kind and merciful 
being, who, when he is worshipped, re-> 
quires not a cumbersome and unprofi- 
table load of ceremonies, but the service 
of a free and unadulterated heart. The 
kingdom of God, it tells us, is not meat 
and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and 
joy in the Holy Ghost. God, it declares, 
is no respecter of persons, but every ivhere 
he that feareth him, and worketh righteous- 
ness, is accepted of him. 

In the mere theory of religion, it holds 
out nothing that encourages superstition. 
Christ, it teaches, to be our only Me- 
diator, and that w r e are reconciled to 
God through the blood of his cross. All 
those inferior beings, employed in the go- 
vernment of the world, whom the heathens 
interpreted into daemons of selfishness, 
cruelty and revenge, it shows to be minis- 
ters that carry on his wise and benevo- 
lent purposes. It even declares that the 



375 



great God himself is concerned in every 
event, and that such a trifling circumstance, 
as the falling of a hair from our head, is 
his appointment. It lets us see that 
storms and earthquakes are brought about, 
to prevent greater calamities; and that 
the common evils and afflictions of life 
are the chastenings of a tender and so- 
licitous parent for our good. 

This plain but interesting account of 
providence, given by our religion, along 
with the justness and simplicity of its pre- 
cepts, might have prevented men, one 
would have thought, from running to ex- 
cess in external observances ; yet, ever 
since it has been published and received 
among men, these in many cases have 
been multiplied into an unreasonable num- 
ber. The hierarchy, or government of 
the church, has too often been burdened 
with ceremonies. Even in our own enligh- 
tened times, as well as in the dark ages, 
in which Europe was long involved ; both 
among the Greeks and Romans, formerly 
and at present ; the free service of Christ 
has been too often converted into a yoke 
of bondage. 



376 



This formality in religion, this love of 
externals in the worship of God, proceeds 
not from Christianity, but weakness of 
mind and a worldly spirit. Christianity 
lays little or no stress upon forms in our 
devotions ; but strongly inculcates that 
spiritual service, which becomes rational 
beings. Except baptism and the Lord's 
Supper, it enjoins no rite. Public wor- 
ship and prayer are allowed ; but these 
forms are so connected with religious and 
moral feelings, that, when rightly observed, 
their formality is not great. They are 
instrumental duties, as they have some- 
times been called ; and recommended by 
natural religion, though the gospel has 
sanctioned their observance. 

Notwithstanding this freedom, however, 
from ceremonial and superstitious prac- 
tices, conferred by the gospel ; do not 
men often contend for times and places in 
religion, as if they were the true law of 
Christ ; condemning to ordinances of the 
flesh, those whom he wishes to walk after 
the spirit ; bringing back to the yoke of 
bondage, those to whom he has granted 
the liberty of the Sons of God ? 



377 



This conduct, christians, cannot be jus- 
tified. We ought not to add any thing to 
that religious service, which Christ has en- 
joined. We ought to receive the law in 
that pure sense, delivered by himself, and 
not in that sophisticated meaning, invented 
by his followers. We are to obey not a car- 
nal but a spiritual commandment. We are 
to serve God, not with statutes which are 
not good ; but with reverence, humility, 
and trust, which are truly excellent. 

Secondly, we are freed from the yoke 
of human authority in matters of religious 
opinion. 

Among the heathens, before the com- 
ing of Christ, religion was under the direc- 
tion of the priests. These declared to the 
people, what they were to believe concern- 
ing their gods, and the doctrines, which 
they taught, rested on the credit of a dark 
and doubtful tradition, and this credit was 
confirmed from age to age by oracular 
voices. 

Doctrines, thus supported, had an ama- 
zing influence on the weak and ignorant 
multitude, and completely rivetted the 
authority of the priests. This very few 
presumed to question P and whoever renoun- 



378 



ced it, had to part with fortune, character* 
and every worldly comfort. 

Priestcraft is true to itself in every age, 
and the most complete system of priest- 
craft which the world has seen, is the Hin- 
doo superstition. The folly of its doc- 
trines, and the cruelty of its rites, are well 
known to the christian w r orld, and the en- 
lightened and benevolent ardently wish that 
it may be soon destroyed from the earth. 
Never was there a greater enemy to the im- 
provement and happiness of man. Never 
was there a more cursed instrument of 
despotism and selfishness ; a yoke of im- 
positions, which millions of our race have 
long born, and still continue to bear. 

If we examine other religions, we will 
find the same slavery and the same stupi- 
dity ; the few lording it over the many ; 
teaching them w hat they are to believe 
concerning God and providence, faith and 
duty ; as if they alone were empowered to 
know all truth, and every one else to obey 
what was enjoined, without question or 
enquiry, 

In this respect false religion follows the 
example of the true, though it cannot plead 
the same reason. Each uses its authority, 



379 



but when we yield to the authority of the 
true, we are freed from that of the false. 
We are not controuled by men, but the 
Almighty himself. We are not led away 
by unwarranted pretensions, but undeni- 
able evidence. 

The Jews, when our Saviour appeared, 
were under no less subjection in matters 
of religious faith than the Gentiles. They 
were under the shackles of the scribes and 
ph^risees, who taught for doctrines the 
commandments of men, and were con- 
strained to believe the tradition of the el- 
ders more than the w T ord of God. 

The same tyranny over the understand- 
ings of men has crept into the society of 
christians. For several centuries, the 
church of Rome set up a spiritual domi- 
nion, and courts of inquisition were insti- 
tuted, not only to condemn speculative er- 
rors, but to impose articles of faith, well cal- 
culated to preserve the power of the sacred 
order, but in many cases directly opposed 
to the doctrines of Christ. 

Among every sect of christians, there 
has always been an inclination, more or 
less, to usurp the rights of private judg- 
ment, and to subject the understanding 



380 



to the sway of authority. This is a 
species of tyranny, to which human na- 
ture is very prone, and which runs through 
all classes and denominations of men, It 
is more apt to shew itself in religious 
doctrines than in any other thing, on ac- 
count of the importance which all men 
attach to these; and, certainly, persecu- 
tions, in most cases, have originated from 
this ground. 

From the yoke of this authority the 
gospel sets us free. It has no doubt com- 
manded an order of men to teach its doc- 
trines, but it has given them no controul, 
over the conscience. They are to put 
their hearers m mind by way of re- 
membrance, but they are not to dictate, 
what they are to believe, without refer- 
ence to scripture. They are to be help- 
ers of their faith, but not to compel them 
to receive this or that tenet. 

Our Saviour discouraged all tendencies of 
this kind, by telling his disciples, not to be 
called masters, for one was their master, 
even Christ ; and similar is the strain of 
doctrine, taught by his apostles. Luke 
gives the Bereans this noble character, 
They not only received the word with all 



381 



readiness, bat searched the scriptures daily, 
whether the things which they had heard, 
were so or not. Let every man be persuad- 
ed in his own mind, says Paul. We speak 
to you as wise men, adds the same apostle, 
judge ye what we say. Beloved, believe not 
every spirit ; but try the spirits, whether 
they be of God, is the doctrine of John. 

Thus does the gospel defend the under- 
standing from the encroachments of au- 
thority. While it allows its doctrines to 
be explained and recommended : it leaves 
it to our own choice, whether we will re- 
ceive and acknowledge them. It respects 
the rights of private judgment, while it dis- 
courages every appearance of arrogance 
and affected superiority. 

If, therefore, we would conform to the 
spirit of the gospel, while we pay all due 
deference to the experience and saga- 
city of others, we will put some reli- 
ance on our own judgments, in regard 
to mere articles of belief. In this case we 
are not bound to credit the assertions of 
any man, independent of his proofs. The 
will of God delivered in scripture, is the 
rule of faith, and not the nostrums of falli - 
ble men. That is the only unerring stand- 



382 



ard of opinions in religion, and not the 
creeds and confessions merely of any sect 
of christians. By that, and not the formu- 
laries of any church, are we to be direct- 
ed, what to believe. 

Let us see then that we follow a safe guide 
in our belief of religious doctrines. In all 
affairs of this nature let us be swayed by 
the proper authority. Let us be direct- 
ed by the declarations of scripture alone. 
Let us reject, without hesitation, all sys- 
tems of divinity, which men recommend, 
unless countenanced by the word of God. 
They have been the bane of the church 
in every age, and the sooner they are dis- 
carded, the better. 

The law and the prophets, the apostles 
and evangelists, are our masters. We 
yield up our minds to what heaven has 
written. We compare scripture with 
scripture, and thus attain to the meaning 
of the spirit. This is the knowledge 
which we chiefly value, and through the 
influence of which we hope to be saved. 
This is to be instructed in the truth, and 
protected from error ; to know what we be- 
lieve, and on what account ; to be sound 
in the faith, and not led away by false 
doctrine. 



DISCOURSE XXVI. 



ON THE LIBERTY WHICH CHRIST 
COMMUNICATES TO HIS 
DISCIPLES. 

John viii. 36. 

If the Son, therefore, shall make you free, 
ye shall be free indeed. 

It is delightful to contemplate those 
privileges, which we enjoy by the gospel ; 
and of those privileges which it bestows, 
none is more valuable than liberty, or more 
worthy of our attention. 

I have already considered two views, in 
which we are made free, and shall not fur- 
ther recapitulate what has been said, but 
proceed to observe, in the third place, that 
the gospel frees us from the slavery of sin. 



384 



The most perfect freedom which we can 
conceive, is when we do without restraint, 
what we judge to be right. This freedom 
angels and the spirits of just men made 
perfect enjoy, 

To the enjoyment of this freedom by 
men upon earth there are many obstacles, 
some from without, but by far the most 
powerful from within. Those from with- 
in chiefly arise from the passions implant- 
ed in our frame. 

The passions are given, to be the ser- 
vants, not the guides of reason ; and in 
this respect, they are a useful and most 
important branch of our constitution. They 
are the springs of action and enterprize, 
They excite to every thing great and he- 
roic in conduct. They inspire friendship 
and affection towards our kind. Without 
them life would languish, and there would 
be little comfort or happiness in the dwell- 
ings of men. 

Often, however, the passions are dissa- 
tisfied with this subordinate office in our 
frame. Instead of being the servants, they 
become the masters of reason. Instead of 
consenting to obey, they presume to com- 
mand. Usurping the sovereignty of the 



385 



soul, they eruelly tyrannise over it, and 
reduce it to the most galling bondage. 

Even the tyranny of a single passion is 
the greatest slavery, but they seldom appear 
single. When one begins to rage, another 
rises up ; and often a whole legion assaults 
at once. At variance with one another, as 
well as turbulent in their nature, they issue 
contradictory orders ; and these it is impos- 
sible for their unhappy slave to obey. 
Importuned by every one, he cannot satis- 
fy them all ; and even his gratifying one is 
but a louder call to new gratifications. 

What, however, is rather strange, a man 
may crouch under all these masters, and yet 
imagine himself to be free. From youth 
upwards, and even to hoary old age, he may 
have been in the habit of yielding to their 
tyranny ; and all the while supposing, 
that he was following the dictates of un- 
biassed reason. This is a capital branch of 
that deceitfulness of sin, mentioned by the 
apostle. 

But however the sinner may deceive 
himself, he has no title to that freedom, 
bestowed by the gospel. Would you call 
the prisoner in his dungeon free, who 
dreams of his liberty ? or the madman in 

2 A 



386 



his cell, who hugs his chains, and thinks 
them the ensigns of his royalty ? No 
more can you call that man free, who ha- 
bitually submits to the controul of his 
passions, without any reluctance or sense 
of his condition. 

For the most part, however, the man, 
who is enslaved by his passions, is sensible 
of his state, and sees the fetters by which 
he is held. He even longs to be delivered, 
and often forms the purpose of asserting 
his liberty. Nay he struggles under his 
chains, but his rescue is not easily effected. 
His masters rise up against him, and over- 
power his efforts. After a weak resistence, 
he yields anew to their sway, and becomes 
more enslaved than ever. 

How deplorable is this situation ! The 
wretch, who is thus tied down, and can- 
not get free ; often discerns the full ex- 
tent of his misery, and in true bitterness 
of soul, laments his thraldom ; but he has 
no longer resolution to attempt his deli- 
verance, and, as far as depends upon him- 
self, despairs of success. Hear how the 
apostle Paul, personating such a charac- 
ter, describes the conflict within him : / 
am carnal, sold under sin ; for that which 



387 



/ do, I allow not ; for what I would, that 
do I not ; hut what I hate, that do I. If 
then I do that which I would not, I consent 
unto the law, that it is good. Noiv then it 
is no more I that do it ; but sin that dwell- 
eth in me. For I knoiv that in me, that is, 
in my flesh dwelleth no good thing : For 
to will is present with me, but, how to per- 
form that which is good, I find not ; for 
the good, that I would, I do not ; but the evil, 
tvhich I would not, that I do. Now if I do 
that I woidd not, it is no more I that do it, 
but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a 
law, that when I would do good, evil is present 
with me. For I delight in the law of God, 
after the inner man ; but I see another law 
in my members, warring against the law of 
my mind, and bringing me into captivity to 
the law of sin, tvhich is in my members. O 
ivretched man that I am ! who shall deliver 
me from the body of this death ? I thank 
God through Jesus Christ our Lo?*d. 

One of the great ends, for which our Sa- 
viour came into the world, was to destroy 
the power of sin, and establish the domi- 
nion of righteousness ; and this he has 
accomplished, by the doctrines which he * 
taught, the precepts which he delivered, 



8 



388 

the example which he set, and the aids of 
the spirit, which he has procured and 
given to his true disciples. We who follow 
him, receive another temper, and learn an- 
other conduct. Enlightened by his word, 
and guided by his counsel, we breathe a 
new spirit, and walk in newness of life. 
From slaves we become free men. The 
law of the spirit of life makes us free from 
the law of sin and death. 

This is a most glorious privilege, and 
never enough to be esteemed. Words can- 
not express the gratitude, which we owe 
for deliverance from the dominion of our 
passions, from that power of indwelling 
sin 5 which controuls and directs the whole 
man. 

How is it to be lamented, that many, 
professing Christianity, seem to know no- 
thing of this freedom, and resign them- 
selves entirely to the tyranny of vice ! Do 
we not see the slave of vanity, sacrificing 
every thing to shew, and catching at every 
breath of applause, as if it were his last 
stake ? Does not the minion of avarice 
prefer gain to his God, and hoard up trea- 
sure, often in direct opposition to good 
sense, and sometimes to justice? Does 



389 



not the drudge of ambition clamber up 
the giddy precipice of intrigue and favour, 
and grasp at every shadow of preferment 
and power, while the ground is tottering 
under him ? Do not multitudes let them- 
selves afloat on the waves of sensual plea- 
sure, and struggle in vain to lay the tu- 
mults of an ever craving desire ? Does not 
he, who yields to envy, sicken at the sight 
of every happier man than himself, and ri- 
diculously torment himself, because he 
does not engross every enjoyment ? Does 
not he, who is goaded on by revenge, tram- 
ple on every consideration of mercy, and 
even imbrue his hands in the blood of a 
friend or a brother ? 

These things, christians, ought not to 
be. As far as in us lies, we should keep our- 
selves free from subjection to our passions. 
Putting on the whole armour of Christ, we 
should not suffer sin to have dominion 
over us. Praying to God for his aid and 
support, we should acknowledge no master, 
but the power of religion, and the empire 
of righteousness. 

In the fourth place, the gospel frees us 
from the fear of death, 



390 



Death in scripture is emphatically call- 
ed the king of terrors. From those convul- 
sions, which it sometimes causes in our 
animal frame ; from the entire destruction 
of our present being, which it accomplishes, 
from those attachments to kindred and 
friends, which it cuts off ; from that dark- 
ness, which is spread over the region be- 
yond the grave ; from those awful forebod- 
ings of future vengeance, which are called 
up and dreaded by the guilty conscience ; 
death must ever be a terrible event to th<* 
natural man. 

The desire of life is the strongest in 
the human breast. Notwithstanding the 
troubles and sorrows, to which human na- 
ture is liable, almost no man can give it up 
without a pang ; and, were it practicable, 
would retain it at any price. The dissolu- 
tion of his frame he thinks of with horror. 

While the heathens felt in all their 
force those terrors, which the thoughts of 
dissolution occasioned, they derived no 
support from the reflections of reason. 
They were under the utmost uncertainty, 
whether, when the corporeal machine was 
dissolved ; we would cease to be, or the 
soul exist separate from the body ; and if 



391 



they did allow the separate existence of the 
soul, which some of the most thinking of 
them did not, they were lost in conjec- 
ture about its condition. The pictures 
which they drew of a future existence were 
absurd, extravagant and miserable in the 
extreme ; and are chiefly to be valued, as 
they proved the reality of their fears, and 
the great need which they had of revela- 
tion to remove them. 

The Jews were subject to the same fears, 
and nearly under the same uncertainty. 
Before the coming of Christ, revelation 
had touched very sparingly on the state of 
departed spirits, and afforded almost no 
consolation to mortal man. Any rational 
account of a future state is almost exclu- 
sively given by the gospel ; as also the first 
accurate statement of the terms on which 
eternal happiness is obtained. 

Since its publication, therefore, great light 
has been cast on the condition and destiny 
of man. We are assured, that we are now 
in the infancy of our being, and are train- 
ing up in the present, in order to be fit 
inhabitants of the future world ; that here 
we are liable to fall from integrity, and be 
involved in misery ; but hereafter we are 



392 



to be confirmed in virtue, and secured in 
happiness. 

This is a sublime and beautiful view, 
which the gospel gives of the course of 
providence and the fate of man. It joins 
the present and the future worlds to- 
gether, and shews that death, instead of 
destroying, leads to the endless improve- 
ment and happiness of our being. 

Such ideas as these must have their due 
efficacy upon christians, and greatly banish 
those fears, which are called up by the 
thoughts of death. Our desire of life must 
be increased, and our love of happiness 
gratified ; patience willingly cultivated, to 
bear the ills of mortality ; and fortitude 
awakened, when we are about to step in- 
to the grave. 

Often, however, those calling themselves 
christians, perceive none of these good ef- 
fects. Often, when the grand truths, which 
the gospel has disclosed, are out of sight or 
little regarded, they are as much afraid of 
death, as the heathens, and like them, some 
may even be said, to be all their lifetime 
subject to bondage. 

Every one, however, who is animated 
by the spirit of his profession, is entirely 



S9S 



freed from this slavery. By the atonement, 
which Christ has made for sin, he trusts 
that he will escape future punishment ; by 
the resurrection of Christ from the dead, 
he has undeniable assurance, that he him- 
self will rise ; by the ascension of Christ 
into heaven, he knows that the whole 
management of the future world is in his 
hands; and from the pure benevolence, which 
prompted him to undertake the salvation 
of our race, and suffer a cruel and ignomi- 
nious death, that it might be accomplished ; 
he believes that he will give eternal hap- 
piness to all his true and faithful follow-, 
ers. 

Thus to believers in his name has the 
Saviour robbed the last enemy of its ter^- 
rors. To them the bed of death is of- 
ten strewed with roses, instead of thorns. 
Instead of the greatest of evils, they con- 
sider dissolution as an inlet to glory ; as a 
gate, through which they pass, from a world 
of trouble sorrow and pain, to a land of 
pleasure joy and gladness. 

All the considerations, which the gospel 
sets before us, greatly tend to remove the 
horrors of dissolution, and smooth the road 
to the narrow house. Gladdened by 



394 



the prospect of never-ending existence, 
assured that heaven is the exclusive dwell- 
ing of the wise and the good, and relying 
on the Captain of our salvation, as our 
greatest and most tried friend ; we are in 
a great measure enabled to conquer, and 
triumph over the formidable monarch of 
the grave. 

Thus, christians, we have laid before you 
a comprehensive but short account of that 
liberty, which we enjoy by the gospel ; 
liberty from hurtful and useless ceremonies 
in the worship of God ; liberty from human 
authority in religious opinions ; liberty 
from the slavery of sin and fear of death ; 
a liberty truly estimable, and to be pre- 
ferred before every other liberty whatever. 

Surely, then, it becomes us, who call our- 
selves christians, to be sensible of such a 
noble blessing, to call no man master upon 
earth but Christ, to observe no religious 
ceremonies, but those which he has en- 
joined, to suffer none of our passions to be 
superior to the influence of his doctrines, 
and to reckon death rather a messenger, 
to introduce us to ever during happiness, 
than a tyrant to deprive us of our being. 



395 



Our sense of this noble blessing will 
be best shewn by our practice. When 
we walk not after the flesh, but after the 
spirit; when we advance through life, as the 
redeemed of the Lord, and devoted to his 
cause ; when we persevere to the end, re- 
signed to his will, and trusting in his love ; 
we testify that we are among the number 
of those, whom he has freed from ceremo- 
nial worship, human authority in religion, 
sin, and death. 

Let the freedom, then, which the gos- 
pel bestows, be ever present to our minds. 
Let us ever act, as those who have been 
so highly favoured. Let us nobly and du- 
tifully assert our independence of all 
troublesome and unnecessary rites in reli- 
gious worship ; of all human guides in mat- 
ters of faith ; of the power of all unlaw- 
ful passion, and cf all unmanly fears of 
dissolution. In all these respects let us 
stand fast in the liberty ivherewith Christ 
has made us free, and not be entangled again 
in the yoke of bondage. 

Now in order that we may stand free, 
and not stoop again to bondage : let our 
minds be deeply impressed with the im- 
portance of the truly liberal service of 



396 



Christ. Let us be persuaded, how much 
it concerns us, to be free, both in religious 
belief and in religious practice. Let us 
rejoice in the assurance of being delivered 
from the reign of sin, and the dread of 
death. 

It is only when the value of these 
great advantages is impressed upon our 
minds, that we can know our obligations 
to the gospel of Christ ; that we can hearti- 
ly discharge all duties, to which we are call- 
ed, either in ordinary life, or on solemn 
occasions ; that we can be the friends of 
Jesus, the admirers of his doctrine, and 
the imitators of his example ; that we 
can be the true servants of God, in the 
midst of trial, and the steady expectants 
of the celestial inheritance, to which the 
Sons of God shall be brought, when their 
trial is over; that our hopes of eternity 
cannot be disappointed, nor our posses- 
sion of its joys countervailed. 



The plan of these two Discourses, on the liberty of the gospel, has beeti 
adopted from Orr and Finlayson. The Sermons of the latter on this 
subject are admirable. 



DISCOURSE XXVII 



ON PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 

{Preached at Colinton, on the second of February, being the first Sab- 
bath after the interment of the Rev. JOHN FLEMING, late Minis- 
ter of that parish : With a short memoir of the deceased.] 

Isaiah xxxviii. 1. 

In those days teas Hezekiah sick unto death, 
and Isaiah, the prophet, the son of Amoz, 
came unto him, and said unto him, Thus 
saith the Lord, set thine house in order, 
for thou shall die, and not live. 

Hezekiah, to whom these words were 
addressed, was one of the most pious kings 
of Judah. He served the God of his Fa- 
thers with a perfect heart, and, while he 
lived, departed not from the path of duty. 



398 



But let a man be ever so good, he cannot 
ward off the strock of death. This awful 
catastrophe of our nature every human be- 
ing is doomed to undergo. Sooner or later 
he must be taken from his acquaintance and 
friends, and laid in the grave. 

Death is the most important event, 
which can happen to our race. It works 
a complete change on our frame. It entire- 
ly destroys the union of soul and body. It 
carries from a state of trial into a state of 
retribution. 

Whenever death has been seriously con- 
sidered, some preparation has been deemed 
necessary ; but the measures, which have 
been adopted for this purpose, have not 
always been judicious. Very often they 
have been such as cannot be sanctioned 
by enlightened reason ; proceeding from 
a weak understanding, and a feeble heart ; 
betraying gross ignorance of the nature of 
man and his duties. 

Some have retired from the world, 
and dedicated almost their whole time to 
meditations on death ; calling up this king 
of terrors to their solitary thoughts, and 
steadily viewing him in his frightfullest 
colours 



399 



Retirement from the world, at times, to 
cherish the great principles of religion, is 
a duty incumbent upon all ; but to desert 
the station allotted us by Providence, and 
neglect the proper business of life, in order 
to familiarize our minds with death, is con- 
trary to every dictate of common sense. 
We are to discharge the duties of our call- 
ings, and fulfil the purposes of our creation, 
however wise and commendable it may 
be at times, to go into solitude, in order to 
reflect on this destroyer of our nature. 

Others have avoided all the more gay 
and cheering scenes of life, and frequented 
the tombs of the dead, and attended the beds 
of the dying, that they might become ac- 
quainted with the sad sights, and accustom- 
ed to the mortifying changes which death 
causes in our frame. 

Occasional visits to the mansions of the 
dead may inspire the wisest reflections, and 
seasonable waiting on the sick is a sacred 
duty, which we owe to humanity, friend- 
ship, and kindred ; but it is the utmost 
ingratitude to God to shut out from our 
view all the beauties of creation, to deny 
ourselves those innocent enjoyments, which 
he has poured into our cup, to renounce 



400 



those sweets of social life, which he has 
put in the power of almost every man. We 
may act a worthy part in life, without 
such gloom and sadness. We may prepare 
for death, without leaving off the practice 
of duty. 

Preparation for death may be branched 
out into various particulars ; and the first 
of these, which we shall mention, is a firm 
belief of the doctrines of the gospel. 

The doctrines of the gospel we should 
regard as settled points. In respect to 
these, our intellectual habits should be 
established. They are so linked together, 
that if one is disbelieved, our confidence 
in the rest will be shaken. If the pro- 
vidence of God is denied, we can have 
little faith in the mission of Christ, the 
merits of his righteousness, or the power- 
fulness of his intercession. 

But, of all these doctrines, the belief of 
the immortality of the soul and a future 
state of rewards and punishments is the 
most essential ; and well fitted to influence 
our minds. If we are firmly convinced, 
that we are to live hereafter, and that we 
shall be happy there, according as we live 
here, we will be naturally inclined to pre- 



401 



pare for that new state into which we are 
to enter. 

If death, how- ever, be viewed in no 
other light than an event, which dis- 
solves our present frame, and extinguishes 
all consciousness, as many of the ancient 
philosophers supposed ; that preparation 
must be the best, which enables us to un- 
dergo this fate with the least uneasiness. 

Before Christianity enlightened the world 
by its doctrines, a dark cloud hung over 
the tomb. The gloom, which rested upon 
the grave, was too thick to be penetrated 
by the eye of reason. The other world was 
hardly known to the most sagacious in- 
quirer. AH* on the other side of time, was 
too uncertain to banish those doubts, which 
ever infested the minds of men. 

When, however, the doctrines of Christi- 
anity were revealed to the world, they dart- 
ed a clear light into the land of immor- 
tality. They dispersed that thick darkness, 
with which it had been long overspread. 
They cleared up those uncertainties, with 
which the minds of men had been greatly 
perplexed. 

A mist still broods over these regions, 
and w r ill do so to every son of mortality, 

2 B 



402 



while the world lasts ; but, through that 
mist, we, who embrace the gospel, behold 
the Father Almighty, seated on a throne of 
glory, begirt with the noblest perfections, 
guiding all things with ineffable wisdom, 
exercising power and authority over all his 
works, and dispensing innumerable bless- 
ings to all his creatures. We behold 
Jesus, the wise and benevolent, taking upon 
his shoulders the government of the moral 
world, presenting supplications to his Fa- 
ther in behalf of the redeemed, and leading 
the faithful and obedient to happiness and 
rest. We behold the angels, those pure 
and exalted, beings, who dwell in heaven, 
taking the deepest interest in the welfare 
of men; as well as the spirits of the just 
made perfect, tasting of those eternal de- 
lights, which spring up in that happy land. 
The eye of faith fastens on those indescrib- 
able glories, hereafter to be revealed ; those 
inconceivable pleasures, hereafter to be en- 
joyed. 

Powerful is the influence, which the be- 
lief of these things has on the mind of man. 
It increases his diligence, and encourages 
his perseverance. It supports and • glad- 
dens him, during his pilgrimage state. It 



403 



cheers up the spirits in the midst of ad- 
versity. It throws a ray of comfort round 
the bed of sickness. It gilds the dark 
gloom of death with the light of endless 
life. Even in the struggles of the last 
hour, it creates fortitude, and inspires re- 
solution ; fills the soul with good hopes, 
and reconciles it to that separation, which 
is about to take place. 

Secondly, In preparing for death, we 
should study to conform to all the precepts 
of the gospel. 

Can we be prepared in this respect, un- 
less our obedience to Christ be sincere, un- 
less our endeavours to act as his disciples 
be unwearied, unless our temper be good, 
and our conduct excellent ; unless the 
fear of God, and the love of men, sway 
our spirits ; unless we delight in cultivat- 
ing true holiness ? 

How well established, then, ought to be 
our religious and moral habits ! how un- 
failing our piety and benevolence ! how 
free ought we to be from sinful propen- 
sities ! how superior to prevailing temp- 
tations ! All our gifts ought to be in lively 
exercise. Our hearts and our lives ought to 
be formed on the doctrines of the gospel. 

3 



404 

Our principles ought to be displayed in our 
actions. Our practice ought to agree with 
our profession. We ought to imbibe the spi- 
rit of our Master, and walk in his steps. 
We ought to learn Christ, and be cruci- 
fied to the world. 

Our obedience will be more vigorous, 
if it flow from a correct faith and a lively 
hope ; a genuine persuasion of all the 
truths of the gospel, and a firm reliance 
on the happiness of immortality ; a strong 
conviction of the necessity of holiness to 
perfect the christian character, and a set- 
tled opinion, that we are accountable for 
our actions. 

In order, then, to meet the last enemy, 
without alarm or terror, we should keep 
our eye fixed on the rule of duty, and run 
in the path pointed out by scripture. This 
is our chief business upon earth, and in 
executing this, we ought never to tire, 
Negligence here will not be excused. Eva- 
sions here will not be excepted. Down- 
right honesty in the exercise of duty ought 
to be all our concern. Striving to reach 
perfection ought to be all our endeavour. 

Thirdly, In preparing for death we should 
sorrow for every sin, which we have com- 



405 



mitted, and, through the assistance of hea- 
ven endeavour to amend. 

If we are burdened with unrepented 
guilt, when death presents itself, we will 
have difficulty in attending to the con- 
cerns of eternity. Such a state of mind 
will greatly hinder those serious thoughts, 
which are suitable to that important hour. 

How can that man securely enter into 
the other world, who has sinned all his 
days in this, but never repented ; who has 
forgotten his God altogether, and broken, 
without scruple, one or other of his laws ; 
who fears not his name, nor obeys his will ? 
Can that man enjoy peace at that moment, 
who has wronged his neighbour by fraud 
or slander; who has betrayed the inno- 
cent, oppressed the poor, or lived on 
the spoils of the widow and the orphan ; 
who, from imprudence or madness, has 
hurled the family, which he was bound to 
support, from affluence to wretchedness ; 
who is pursued by the indignant glance 
of the wife, whom he has ruined ; or 
brought the grey hairs of a parent with so? f - 
roic to the grave ? Can that man be hap- 
py, when his last day has come, whose con- 
stitution is worn out by luxury and riot ; 



406 



whose body is infested with disease, which 
he himself has caused ; whose soul is pol- 
luted with guilt of his own creating ; who, 
from the thoughts of his misconduct, sick- 
ens at festivity and joy ; who, from the 
horrors of his mind, cannot endure the 
sound of gladness and mirth ?• — Can that 
man meet death with tranquillity and com- 
posure, who is stared in the face by all 
these misdeeds ? Rushing on his imagi- 
nation at that moment, they are like thorns 
under his pillow. They smite like mil- 
dew and pestilence, and his soul is harrow- 
ed up with the most agonizing suffering. 

What a blessing to be delivered from 
such distress ! We cannot go about the 
duties of that season, when we labour un- 
der such anguish. We cannot be fit for 
encountering death, when encumbered 
with so much iniquity. If we be penitent 
at that hour, God alone knows whether 
our penitence be sincere ; but certainly, 
the proof of its sincerity is wanting to the 
w r orld ; and though God for Christ's sake 
will accept of true penitence, even at the 
last moment, yet to delay it till that mo- 
ment must be highly dangerous. 



407 



Long before death arrives, then, every 
sin of which we are guilty ought to be de- 
plored. Deep sorrow for all the irreve- 
rence, which we have shewn to God, ought 
to be felt. Every injury which we have 
done to men ought to be repaired. Res- 
titution to those whom we have defrauded 
ought to be made. 

As far as we can, we must give evidence 
that we heartily repent of every sin, and 
carefully correct every fault. While we 
consider ourselves in the presence of the 
Almighty, we should be diligent in learn- 
ing his laws, and eager in obeying his com- 
mands. If we look to him as our Gover- 
nor and Judge, we should resolve to serve 
him to the end of our days. 

When reformation thus follows on the 
back of transgression, when we are zealous 
in yielding the obedience of faith, when 
we bring forth fruit meet for repentance ; 
we are so far prepared for meeting death. 
We are in a proper frame for going through 
the last scene of life We are encouraged 
to enter into that unknown world, which 
is to succeed the present, 

What an advantage must it be, when 
we have lived out our days in this world, 



408 



when our last hour is come, and we are 
about to step into eternity, that we have 
discerned our failings, regretted our sins, 
confessed them unto God, implored for- 
giveness, and resolved to forsake them ; 
that duty has been taken up in a serious 
light, and that we are ready to discharge 
it, as far as ability and opportunity shall 
allow ; that we are determined to be en- 
tangled with no other care, when death 
demands our attention ? 

Fourthly, When preparing for death, we 
should moderate our attachment to earthly 
things, and chiefly fix them upon heavenly. 

The things of this earth were intended 
for our use, and ought not to be despised ; 
but we are not to value them above mea- 
sure, or suffer them to engross all our re- 
gard. Ill is that man prepared for death, 
around whose heart the cares of this world 
are entwined ; and who clings to its joys, 
as if they were all his hope. 

No doubt we have been so accustomed 
to the world, know so well the value of its 
blessings, have tasted so often of its sweets, 
and found some of them so necessary to 
our existence and comfort, that we give 
them up with extreme reltictance. In 



409 



course of time we have contracted a fond- 
ness for them so strong, and difficult to be 
overcome, that the thought of parting with 
them pierces to the very heart. 

To be altogether indifferent to earthly 
things, is not our duty. That we should 
discern them to be useful, and reckon them 
the bounty of Heaven to mortals, both 
good sense and gratitude require. About 
our food and clothing, in some degree, we 
must be concerned. We cannot live with- 
out these blessings ; and we have no rea- 
son to think, that they will be supplied 
by miracle. 

All worldly things, however, are transi- 
tory. They may be valuable in our eye ; 
but, ere long, we must surrender them to 
others. Here we have no certain habita- 
tion, nor permanent abode. Here we are 
strangers and pilgrims, as all our fathers 
have been. Here we wander from place to 
place, and city to city, till the time of our 
departure arrives ; and that to us all can- 
not be distant. After a little while, we 
must lie down in the dust, and rise not till 
the heavens and the earth be no more. In 
the lonely house our bodies must suffer dis- 
solution, and become a prey to corruption, 



410 



These serious truths we try to hide 
from our view. We keep to the bright 
side of things, as long as we can. We 
follow wherever thoughtlessness, folly, and 
pleasure lead the way. The present mo- 
ment is ours, we secretly say to ourselves, 
and we are determined to enjoy it. What 
is to be in future we know not ; and that, 
we are resolved, shall not disturb us. 

In this matter we do not act wisely. We 
are enemies to ourselves, if we be too much 
wedded to a place, where we are only to 
stay for a little. As one, travelling through 
a country, leaves with regret persons who 
have used him well, and scenes which have 
delighted him much, but, nevertheless, 
pushes on to his destined home ; so we, 
who in a little time are to part with the 
enjoyments of life, ought to hasten on, 
whatever be our sense of their beauty and 
usefulness, to that country in which we 
are hereafter to dwell. 

No doubt, while here, we must mingle 
in society, and take part in the business of 
life. Our bodily frame evidently belongs 
to this world, and we must be interested 
in its hopes and fears, in its joys and 
sprrows. It is indeed our duty, as it is a 



411 



great part of our happiness, to be occasion- 
ally employed in its affairs. Our religion 
has not authorised any to abandon its ne- 
cessary occupations. Monkish solitude, 
and recluse austerities, may have their 
foundation in the odd conceits, and per- 
verse humours of men, but they receive no 
countenance from scripture. 

But though complete seclusion from the 
world is not enjoined by scripture, though 
we cannot altogether withdraw ourselves 
from its concerns ; yet it is the express 
purport of religion, that we should often 
direct our views to the heavenly country, 
long greatly for its glories, and use every 
wise expedient, by which we can hope to 
enter into its precincts. Whatever diffi- 
culties we may have to encounter, or to 
whatever temptations we may be exposed, 
this exalted object ought never to be for- 
got- 

While in this world, therefore, we ought 
not to be too much captivated with its 
charms, nor intoxicated with its pleasures. 
On earth we are not destined to dwell, 
and we ought not to confine our affections 
to earthly things. We hope one day to 
be brought to heaven ; and let us place 



412 



our affections chiefly on things that are 
heavenly. 

This direction of our minds must be a 
mighty advantage. It will powerfully ba- 
lance the influence of temporal consider- 
ations. While the bright abodes of eter- 
nity are set against the dim regions of 
mortality, we will go through life, superi- 
or to its joys ; and come down to the grave, 
defying its terrors. 

This is a most desirable state of mind 
to him, that is approaching the narrow 
house. Weaned from the world, when 
bur course is finished, we will quietly and 
cheerfully meet our fate. All our affec- 
tions being under proper discipline, we will 
welcome the summons of the last messen- 
ger, take leave of those around us, and be 
ready to go wherever Providence directs. 
Composed and resigned we will enter into 
the other world, grateful to God for the 
kindness which we have experienced, and 
relying on his mercy, whatever changes 
of existence we have still to undergo. 

Fifthly, and lastly, In preparing for 
death, we should settle our temporal af- 
fairs, while in health and vigour. 



413 



We are all travelling towards the same 
country ; and what we cannot take with 
us, we must leave behind us ; and as we 
will certainly wish to leave it to those, who 
are related to us, or high in our esteem, 
we will discover the utmost folly, if our 
affairs are in that state, in which strangers 
and enemies can take possession of them, 
and not those, on whom we meant to be- 
stow them. 

Many, indeed, do not possess much of 
this world's goods, and therefore need not 
be exhorted to settle their affairs before 
they die ; but others may have been more 
favoured by Providence, and it highly be- 
comes them to consider, how they are to 
dispose of that wealth, which they have 
accumulated themselves, or inherited from 
others. 

As to those who squander away their 
substance in extravagance and dissipation, 
run into excess on every trifling occasion, 
and endeavour to defraud their creditors 
by cunning and falsehood ; they are ge- 
nerally above advice, and will scarcely be 
persuaded to abandon a course of life, by 
which they do irreparable injury to their 
relatives and friends. 



414 

Those are more likely to be advised, who 
conduct themselves through life with some 
sort of prudence ; but while they have 
disposable property to leave, may injure 
their children and connections, by neglect- 
ing to settle their affairs. 

Such neglect arises chiefly from a pro- 
crastinating spirit, and is greatly to be 
blamed. The uncertainty of life teaches, 
that whatever we intend with our proper- 
ty, ought to be done to-day, and not put 
off till to-morrow. Unless we attend to 
this maxim, those, who are near and dear 
to us, will run the risk of losing what our 
love or duty prompted us to leave to them. 

While to all appearance, therefore, we 
have many days to live ; we should look 
into our affairs, and arrange them. While 
death is yet at a distance, we should stu- 
dy, what we are to do with our own, and 
be decided, what w r e are to give to those, 
whom affection or blood has recommended 
to our favour. 

If matters have been thus examined and 
settled, we will not be torn with the ap- 
prehension, when w r e come to die, that 
those whom we value, or to whom we are 
under obligations, will be disappointed of 



415 



the kindness intended them ; or defraud- 
ed of their rights by those, who have ac- 
cess to our affairs ; that strife will be rais- 
ed in our families, or among our relations ; 
that law-suits will be carried on, by the 
expensiveness of which, and the wilful or 
unavoidable delays of those who conduct 
them, the property of the deceased is often 
swallowed up in deciding who is to inhe- 
rit. 

By the timeous settlement of our affairs, 
all things will be clear, and in the very 
best order, when our end approaches. We 
will be freed from a load, which will sit 
heavy on our spirits, when we ought to be 
occupied with more important concerns. 
We will have nothing of a worldly nature 
to distract us, when about to grapple with 
the last enemy. We will not be harass- 
ed and tormented with things, which 
have been determined long before ; but 
at full leisure to practice the duties incum- 
bent upon us, when standing on the brink 
of the eternal world. 

Having prepared ourselves for death, in 
all the ways now illustrated, we will have 
less to embarrass us in our last hour, and 
be enabled to terminate our trial with hon- 



416 



our, comfort, and hope. We are ready for 
death, at whatever hour it may come. We 
have been wise and virtuous in our day 
and generation, and, like a shock of corn 
brought home in its season, we are com- 
pletely ripe for carrying into the land of 
rest. 

All the particulars, to which our atten- 
tion has now been directed, are a serious 
and important call upon our prudence and 
diligence ; and ought not to be delayed to 
the close of life. We ought not to labour 
under such incumbrances, when about to 
leave an uncertain for an eternal world. 
In these respects, we should be prevailed 
upon to set our house in order, since we 
are to die, and not live. 



These reflections, brethren, are press- 
ed on our attention, by instances of mor- 
tality, occurring every day. Every hu- 
man being, whatever be his rank or office, 
must die. Every preacher, as well as hear- 
er of the word, must submit to this law of 
our nature. 



417 



The death of the minister of a parish fs 
an important event ; and it is natural to 
suppose, that the people of this place must 
be interested in the death of that vene- 
rable clergyman, whose remains we saw 
last Wednesday carried to the grave. 

The Rev. John Fleming was 72 years 
of age and some months, when he died. 
He was born in the parish of Bathgate, 
1750 ; where his father possessed a small 
estate. He was educated at the University 
of Edinburgh, and licensed to preach the 
gospel by the presbytery of Linlithgow. 
He was ordained minister of Cairnton, 1789? 
and after serving that cure for 15 years, he 
was translated to Colinton, where he was 
minister for 18 years. He was offered two 
other livings in the church, which he did 
not accept ; and he was presented to both 
the charges, which he filled, by the unsoli- 
cited choice of the patrons. 

His mind was above the ordinary rate^ 
and highly cultivated. His conversation 
was remarkable for good sense, and disco- 
vered a profound knowledge of the world. 
He had mixed much with people of busi- 
ness, and was courted by men in various 
walks of life, for his skill in valuing landed 

2 c 



418 



property, and giving the best directions 
for the management of estates. 

Few men, indeed, were more capable of 
suggesting excellent advice to their ac- 
quaintance and neighbours, whether in 
their temporal or spiritual concerns ; and 
what is a principal duty of a parochial mini- 
ster, and by which the people under his 
charge are greatly benefited, he was very 
skilful in managing the affairs of the poor. 
While he sympathised with their wants, 
he contrived the most effectual means of 
administering to their comforts. 

The same sagacity and wisdom, w 7 hich 
appeared in his intercourse with the world, 
he carried into the pulpit. Many of his 
earlier discourses were written with uncom- 
mon care, and highly valued for their just 
observation and reasoning; particularly one 
on this text, Seek that ye may excel, to the 
edifying of the church, which he preached 
at the induction of Mr Kellock of Crichton ; 
and which, when delivered on other oc- 
casions, was greatly admired.* 



* Mr Fleming was near-sighted, and always carried a Pocket Bible to 
the Pulpit ; and when he appeared in the pulpits of other Clergymen, 
this Bible, which he always carried with him, was preferred to the Quar- 
tos and|Folios, used on these occasions. 



419 



The first six years after he w&s an or- 
dained minis ter, he regularly committed his 
discourses to memory ; but when he could 
submit to that drudgery no longer, he stu- 
died the subject, and trusted to the moment 
for expressions. These sometimes did not 
come readily ; but if he seemed for a mo- 
ment to consider what was best to be said, 
sound judgment never deserted him, and he 
was always rational and practical. 

He was very shy of appearing as an au- 
thor ; being well aware that no published 
work could succeed, but of the first-rate 
excellence. The only composition of his, 
which saw the light, was the Statistical Ac- 
count of the parish of Cairnton ; and it 
has been quoted by Burns of Paisley, in 
his work upon the Poor Laws, for its en- 
lightened and solid remarks ; and perhaps 
by other authors. 

He was of a very independent tone of 
mind ; in his opinions, downright and un- 
disguised ; and in his conduct, fearless, 
manly, and consistent. In his early and 
middle life, he was keen in politics, but 
cooled as he advanced in years. His notions 
of civil government were chiefly drawn 
from Locke ; and though they might dif- 



420 



fer from those, which many great and wise 
men entertained ; yet he was deeply con- 
vinced of their importance, and never con- 
cealed them, even in the mostcritical times.* 

From the firmness of his purpose, and 
the simplicity of his character, he was 
greatly respected, and ardently loved by 
his friends ; and, what was no small proof 
of his worth, he w T as loved most by those 
who knew T him best. Without descend- 
ing to childishness or vulgarity, he was 
unreserved, affectionate, and kind, to those 
whom he admitted into his intimacy and 
confidence. 

He was of a truly benevolent spirit, 
greatly interesting himself for real merit, 
and munificently relieving real distress. 
However attentive he might be to pecu- 
niary matters, he was nobly generous on 
proper occasions, and, by his judicious eco- 
nomy, enabled to give more assistance to 
others in lending money, and sometimes 
to his great loss, than any other man, in 
the same rank of life. 



* Mr Fleming greatly admired Buchanan, from the similarity cf their 
ideas on Civil Government ; and he had long intended to publish an oc- 
tavo edition of his Works, which we are sorry, was never executed. 



421 



Though his good sense prevented him 
from entering into foolish schemes of phi- 
lanthropy, he felt deep concern for the 
best interests of men ; and whatever could 
enlighten, improve, or gladden his species, 
had his firm and decided support. 

His desire of knowledge was insatiable, 
and his reading of good books unwearied 
to the very last. He understood Latin 
and French remarkably well ; and some of 
the best authors in these languages were 
the companions of his leisure hours, not 
neglecting the classics in our own lan- 
guage.* 

Among the branches of modern science, 
calculated to draw his attention, he pre- 
ferred political economy, and was well ac- 
quainted with its various details, He 
thought the interests of society were deep- 
ly concerned in its study, and that a na- 



* Of French authors, he was most fond of Vertot, Fenelon, Le Sage, 
Rochefocauld, whose Moral Maxims constantly lay on his table, Raynal 
and Say ; of Latin authors, he preferred Cicero, Horace, Lucan, and par- 
ticularly Juvenal, the greatest part of whose Satires he had completely by 
heart ; of English authors, he put a high value on Adam Smith, Samuel 
Johnson, and Shakspeare ; Addison, Pope, and Swift ; Campbell the poet, 
and Crabbe, the latter of whom he generally recommended to young 
men, who sought his acquaintance. 



422 



tion could not flourish, or become great 
and happy, till it uniformly acted on its 
principles.* 

While he glanced at these and similar 
subjects, he did not neglect the studies 
proper for a clergyman. No man was bet- 
ter acquainted with his bible, or could 
produce apter quotations from it in his 
sermons or prayers. In explaining scrip- 
ture, he seldom consulted commentators, 
but trusted to his own judgment. In 
composing sermons, he drew more from 
the stores of his own mind, than the most 
celebrated masters in that kind of writing.f 

All doctrine is best illustrated by prac- 
tice ; and while Mr Fleming's discourses 
were highly sensible, and fitted to convey 
sound ideas of the christian religion, he 
was correct in his morals ; and, as he 



• Mr Fleming left property behind him, to the value of £20,000, the 
bulk of which goes to a nephew and niece, but, failing issue, it is to endow 
two professorships for Political Economy, one in Edinburgh and the other 
in Glasgow. 

-f- Of Sermon writers, Tillotson, Clark, Sherlock. Seeker, and partiou 
larly Gharteris, had most of his esteem ; and, as philosophical divines, 
be greatly admired Butler and Price. 



423 



mingled freely with all classes of his par- 
ish, so he attached them to his person, by 
the frankness and homeliness of his man- 
ners, and the warmth of his regard for their 
temporal as well as spiritual interests. 

He very seldom attended church courts, 
except when he was moderator, or some 
question was agitated, in which his politi- 
cal friends were interested ; but he was a 
frequent party at the convivial meetings of 
his brethren, and while highly temperate 
in his habits, no man was fonder of instruc- 
tive and cheerful conversation. 

His religion, as was suitable to his office 
and profession, was founded on the doc- 
trines of the gospel ; and it appeared in the 
malady, with which he was latterly afflicted, 
w r hat consolation these doctrines could af- 
ford ; and the numerous passages, which 
he was in the habit of repeating from scrip- 
ture, testified the faith and hope, which he 
cherished in his breast. Though his love 
of life was strong when he became ill, yet 
it was subdued by a continued sense of infir- 
mity, and he grew perfectly resigned to the 
will of God ; and while he trusted to his 
inercy in Christ, he longed for the hour, 



424 



when he should be freed for ever from the 
troubles of mortality. 

His voice, which you have often heard 
in this house, you shall hear no more ; but 
we trust that you will long remember the 
instructions which he gave, and profit by 
his example as well as his counsels. 

The pastor has gone before, and the flock 
must soon follow. His preparation is now 
over, but yours ought to be going on. He 
has yielded to the stroke of death, and so 
must you. Like him too, you must rest in 
the grave for a season, but not without hope 
if you belong to Christ ; for those that sleep 
in Jesus, will God bring with him. Be ye 
therefore ready, for at such an hour as ye 
know not, the Son of Man cometh* 



* When Mr Fleming thought himself dying, he requested the Author 
to preach his Funeral Sermon ; and as the Author, in his younger days, 
belonged to the Parish of Cairnton, of which Mr Fleming was Minister, 
before he was appointed to Colinton, and was acquainted with him for 
nearly thirty years, he had an opportunity of observing his Character, 
Talents, and Studies ; and the Relations wishing to have in their posses- 
sion the account which the author has given of these, it was published 
along with the Sermon, February 7th, 1823. 



DISCOURSE XXVIII, 



ON THE PURPOSES, FOR WHICH MOSES AND 
ELIAS APPEARED TO CHRIST, WHEN 
TRANSFIGURED. 

Luke ix. SO, 31. 

And, behold, there talked with him two men, 
which were Moses and JElias ; who ap- 
peared in glory, and spake of his decease, 
which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. 

From the preceding context we learn, 
that our Lord had retired to a mountain, 
generally supposed to be Tabor, in order 
to pray ; and that he took along with him 
his three principal apostles, Peter, James 
and John. 

In their presence a wonderful change 
took place upon his body, but, what was 
the nature of that change, we are not told, 
and it would be vain to conjecture. It 



426 



is commonly called his transfiguration, and, 
however understood, conveyed a glimpse 
of that glory, which he had before the world 
was, and into which he was to enter, when 
his sufferings w ere concluded. 

On this occasion, two persons from the 
spiritual world, Moses and Elias, conversed 
with Jesus, but no mention is made of the 
means, by which they were made known 
to the apostles attending him ; or in what 
kind of bodies they appeared. This mat- 
ter can only be known to God, and on 
what he has been pleased to withhold 
information, it would be rash to hazard an 
opinion. 

Instead therefore of indulging in idle 
speculations, or attempting to be wise a- 
bove what is written, it will be our object, 
in the discourse now to be delivered, to 
shew the wise purposes answered by the 
appearance of these illustrious persons to 
our Lord, when he was transfigured. 

First, then, from the facts here record- 
ed we may infer, that the soul of man does 
not perish at death, but survives the dis- 
solution of the body. 

The hope of immortality is common to 
all nations, it rests both on the instincts 



427 



of nature, and the deductions of reason ; 
but, from the nature of the evidence, there 
must always be a great deal of doubt and 
uncertainty concerning it. To those, who 
have not received the revelation of the 
gospel, a thick vail intercepts the pros- 
pect into futurity. The most sagacious 
of men, by their mere unassisted efforts, 
have been able to penetrate a very little 
way into the region beyond the grave. 
The few rays of sound philosophy, that 
have darted into the gloom, have tended 
rather to perplex, than led to any certain 
conclusion. The matter, after the shrewd- 
est conjecture, has always been undeter- 
mined. 

Christ, however, by his gospel, has dis- 
pelled the feeble glimmerings of reason, 
and openly revealed life and immortality. 
By his own resurrection, as well as ex- 
press declarations, he has poured a stream 
of light into the dark land of death, 
and greatly brightened the dreary region 
of the grave. Those, that once sat in dark- 
ness, have seen a gr*eat light, and on those, 
who sat in the region of the shadow of death, 
light has arisen. 



428 



In the passage before us, this comfort- 
able doctrine is demonstrated by the ap- 
pearance of Moses and Elias. These an- 
cient worthies were dead long before this 
period, and had not their spirits been still 
alive, they could not have talked with Je- 
sus, or been witnessed by his three principal 
apostles. Had all of them, that ever ex- 
isted, been laid in the grave, or reduced to 
nothing, there could have been no men- 
tion of persons so illustrious. 

The three apostles, however, both see- 
ing and hearing them, could not discredit 
their existence. Their two noblest senses 
informed them, who they were ; and they 
no more doubted that they were alive, and 
now standing before them, than that they 
themselves were followers of Christ, and 
had retired to this sacred place with their 
master. 

What the apostles were convinced of 
by sense, every christian now believes by 
faith. The reality of a future existence 
is a chief article of his creed, and this, by 
the institution of the gospel ministry, he 
is not suffered to forget. Every one, who 
goes to the house of God, now receives the 
consolatory instruction, that the soul of 



429 



man survives his body, that it is yet con- 
scious of its existence, that it still exercises 
its powers, that it is not fallen into an 
eternal sleep, that it has not dwindled in- 
to nothing. 

The mortality of the whole man may be 
the tenet of Paganism or infidelity, but it 
is the proud boast of the christian revela- 
tion, that the soul never dies, that though 
the body at death is dissolved into its kin- 
dred earth, yet the spark of celestial fire, 
which enlivens it, is not extinguished, but 
burns with unabated splendour till the re- 
surrection, when it is again united with 
its former companion. 

This doctrine brings dignity as well as 
comfort to man. It lets us see, that death 
does not terminate our being, but that we 
are destined to live in a future state ; that 
this state, whether in happiness or misery, 
shall somewhat resemble the present ; that 
the soul shall still actuate a body, though 
its qualities may be very different from 
mere flesh and blood. 

If we be persuaded of the truth of this 
doctrine, there arises a very strong mo- 
tive to good conduct. From this we are 



430 



strongly encouraged to act wisely here* in 
order to be happy hereafter. By this we 
are pushed on to fulfil the end of our be- 
ing, and persevere against all opposition, 
till we reach our final destination. 

While in this world, therefore, let us en- 
deavour to be perfect, that misery may not 
follow in that which is to come. When 
we die, our destiny is to be fixed, and how 
highly does it concern us, that we do not 
bring eternal misery upon ourselves, by 
our thoughtlessness and folly. Great oc- 
casion is there for diligence in our christian 
vocation ; that we may not be excluded for 
ever from the society of God, J esus Christ, 
the holy angels, and all the redeemed. 

If we be excluded, it will be our own 
fault. In that case we will shew indiffer- 
ence to a matter of infinite importance, our 
well-being in that state, which takes place 
at death, towards which we are fast hasten- 
ing, and which will not be delayed, what- 
ever may be our preparation. 

Let us call into action, then, the best 
powers of our minds. Let us be careful, 
that our noblest virtues may improve. 
Let the fear of God and the love of men 
predominate in our breasts. Let us not 



431 



be more remarkable for sincerity, than con- 
stancy, in the obedience of faith. Let the 
spirit of our profession prevail in our 
practice, however many may be our days. 

But, secondly, The appearance of Moses 
and Elias to our Lord conveys some 
idea of the employments of the just in a 
future world. 

The employments of departed spirits, 
there is the highest probability, some- 
what resemble those, which they led up- 
on earth. What they did in the body, 
they still mind in their separate state. 
Though completely freed from the encum- 
brance of flesh and blood, they still pur- 
sue objects of a kindred nature, with those 
that formerly attracted their attention. 

The attendance of Moses and Elias up- 
on Jesus undeniably proves these asser- 
tions. These illustrious prophets, when 
on earth, were chiefly employed in publish- 
ing and restoring the divine law ; and, from 
their present visit to Jesus, we see that the 
same care occupied their thoughts in hea- 
ven. Being formerly vested with the pro- 
phetic office, they still continue to bear 
witness to the truth. They came to Ta- 
bor, to countenance Jesus as a teacher of 



432 



Religion ; to shew that he was appointed, to 
conduct the divine dispensations, as far as 
men were concerned ; to carry to a con- 
clusion that plan of mercy, which had been 
contrived in their behalf, before time be- 
gan to roll. 

If such was the employment of Moses 
and Elias on the mount, what may hinder 
good men deceased to be sent on similar 
errands of mercy to their posterity when 
distressed? These great prophets took 
some interest in the affairs of their descen- 
dants, and may we not conclude, that pious 
men here will not be exposed to the hard- 
ships of life, or injuries of the world, without 
sharing the sympathy at least, if not the 
assistance of glorified spirits ? While they 
love to contemplate God and his works, 
may they not execute some office or other, 
in which the good of men is concerned ? 
May not labours of love be performed, 
though their bodily presence is at an end ? 
May they not warn us of some great dan- 
ger, which we could not foresee, or rescue 
us from some serious mischief, in which 
we are involved ? May they not contri- 
bute to our virtuous resolutions, when we 
shrink from trial, and help us to reach that 



433 



perfection of character, to which it is our 
duty to aspire ? 

The angels of God fulfil his benevolent 
purposes to men, and may not the spirits 
of the just be employed in similar designs? 
May not the whole intellectual universe 
be enlisted in the cause of the virtuous ? 
In the language of an apostle, are they 
not all ministering spirits, sent forth to mi- 
nister to those that shall be heirs of salva- 
tion ? 

It may be said, that departed spirits are 
ignorant of this world, and its affairs ; as 
they have lived out their time here, and 
have no farther connection or concern 
with any thing under the sun ? 

We are not furnished with lights, either 
from scripture or reason, to give a positive 
decision in this case ; but if they do retain 
a knowledge of their relatives and friends, 
what pleasure must they feel in being the 
instruments of their welfare ? How grati- 
fying to their wishes must be such under- 
takings of kindness ? What can more in- 
crease their love, or light it up when de- 
cayed ; than to act as the well-wishers and 
guardians of those, who were once dear to 
their hearts ? 

2 d 



434 



Perhaps those may not be aware, who 
receive such services, Living under the 
ordinary course of providence, they may 
conceive that things happen to them, as 
they do to others ; and that all events pro- 
ceed from God, or at least they cannot 
discern, when they proceed from his a- 
gents. 

This account we cannot verify, but if 
men believe that any benefits come from 
their departed friends, how acceptable must 
they be to their souls ? What can be more 
soothing to them, in this valley of tears, than 
the idea that they are pitied, if not reliev- 
ed, by those that once partook of their flesh 
and blood ? What will more banish their 
sorrows, than the assurance that their pa- 
rents and kindred, or at least their emi- 
nent countrymen, and illustrious benefac- 
tors, are still engaged in promoting their 
happiness ? 

At any rate, the three apostles of our 
Lord experienced the truth of this com- 
fortable doctrine. Into such a transport 
of joy were they thrown by the appear- 
ance of Mose& and Elias, that they were 
for erecting booths for their Master, and 
his two spiritual guests ; declaring that it 



435 



was good for them to be here; not aware 
that this delusive happiness would soon 
flee away ; and that as soon as they de- 
scended from the celestial spot into the 
ordinary state of human life ; its cares, and 
troubles, and tumults, would break in up- 
on them afresh ; and that they w 7 ould 
have to contend with difficulties and dis- 
tresses anew, though not unprepared for 
the combat by the impressions made upon 
the Mount. 

Christians of every age, as well as the 
apostles of our Lord, may find something 
very consoling in the sympathy and care 
of departed spirits. On the day of trial, a 
persuasion of their attention to our wel- 
fare will elevate our minds, and enable us to 
meet misfortunes with calmness and equa- 
nimity. When struggling with adversity, 
how encouraging the thought, that we do 
not struggle unsupported ! When called to 
resist temptation, how animating the reflec- 
tion, that the spirits of the just are con- 
cerned in our success ! 

This consideration of the spiritual world 
is extremely interesting. It discovers 
our high importance in the universe, 
the vast interest which other beings take 



3 



436 



in our affairs, the just value which we 
ought to have of our own happiness, and 
the rectitude and prudence, as well as the 
piety and benevolence, which ought to be 
displayed in our conduct. 

To this, we have reason to think, depart- 
ed spirits are not indifferent. Certainly, 
the angelic hosts are witnesses of our ac- 
tions, and rejoice greatly at our advance- 
ment in righteousness. Jesus himself, who 
on earth set a noble example of forti- 
tude and perseverance in suffering, sup- 
plies us out of his fulness with every ne- 
cessary help, and calls upon us from the 
sky to bear up in the evil hour. God also, 
who is the spectator of our conduct, re- 
fuses no needful assistance, and is highly 
pleased, when we live up to our profes- 
sion and our hopes. 

The world, christians, is the field, in 
which our virtue is to be perfected. Here 
we are called to enterprize and diligence. 
Many are our spiritual foes, and hard the 
trials which we have to undergo ; but so 
much the more ought we to be courage- 
ous and unshaken. No idle hours are to 
be spent. No indifference is to be shewn. 
We must be firm and resolute in duty, 



437 



whatever discouragements we may encoun- 
ter. We must not be weary and faint, 
while our work is going on. 

Great is the reward laid up for us, af- 
ter our labours and fatigue. Our Re- 
deemer, who sits on a throne of glory, 
is eager to fulfil the whole plan of his 
love. All the happiness of heaven is 
at his disposal ; and if we be guided by 
his voice, and tread in his steps, he will 
not receive us, as the apostles advised, in- 
to temporary erections on the side of the 
mount, but into everlasting habitations 
in the world of spirits. 

Such are the kind offices of separate 
spirits, as taught by the gospel, and may 
the belief of them, during our pilgrimage 
through life, encourage us to steadfast- 
ness and perseverance in our Master's cause. 
We have ample need of such encourage- 
ment, and let us refresh our minds with 
its recollection, amidst our toils and dif- 
ficulties, our troubles and trials. Let us 
rejoice in our exertions, because departed 
spirits are anxious for our true honour and 
eternal welfare. 

Thirdly, the appearance of Moses and 
Elias to Jesus was to prepare him for that 



438 



dreadful death, which he was to suffer at 
Jerusalem. 

This was a most severe fate to one so 
innocent, and full of sensibility ; and if na- 
ture was consulted, he would recoil from 
an end so barbarous and disgraceful. He 
w T ould be prompted to shun what was cal- 
culated to appal the stoutest heart, and 
shake the firmest purpose ; what would 
be construed, by an ignorant and misjudg- 
ing world, into a necessary and deserved 
punishment. To such misrepresentations 
must he yield, if he resolved to die. 

In such a juncture he was not deserted. 
Moses and Elias appeared on the mount, 
to cheer and animate him. They mention- 
ed the decease which he was to accomplish 
at Jerusalem, and he would feel his soul to 
warm towards the human race, and his 
willingness to suffer for sinners to be in- 
creased, while they conversed with him. 

Christ was to die, long before he had 
reached the ordinary limit of human life. 
This event was fast approaching ; and it 
was to be brought about by great violence 
and cruelty ; by a cabal of bloody and im- 
placable men, who were enemies to truth, 
as well as virtue. 



439 



He therefore needed support and en- 
couragement. Whatever was his intellec- 
tual and moral excellence, he was liable 
to the infirmities of our nature. He felt 
pain, and was subject to fear. He even 
urged his Father to be delivered from 
suffering, however much he was resigned 
to his will. 

On certain occasions, therefore, messen- 
gers were sent from heaven, to encourage 
and support him. After the temptation 
in the wilderness, angels came and minis- 
tered unto him. At the mount of Olives, 
a little before his crucifixion, an angel ap- 
peared from heaven, strengthening him. 

In like manner, while Moses and Elias 
conversed with him on the mount, it is ex- 
pressly mentioned, that they spoke of the de- 
cease, which he was to accomplish at Jeru- 
salem ; and their speaking of it, no doubt, 
was intended, not only to signify their ac- 
quiescence in an event, so interesting to the 
world ; but also to stir up his fortitude and 
resolution, in bearing what was so painful 
and ignominious. 

Fourthly, and lastly, while Jesus was 
thus prepared for his crucifixion, so also 
w T ere the apostles that attended him. 



440 



The appearance of Moses and Elias tend- 
ed to reconcile them to an event so humilia- 
ting. By the conversation of these illus- 
trious persons with their Master, they 
were warned of the tragical end, which he 
was to undergo, before the world could be 
saved. 

This was a point, which he took every 
opportunity of pressing upon the notice 
of his followers, during his public minis- 
try, though they were extremely dull in 
comprehending his meaning, and always 
contrived some how or other, to put a fi- 
gurative construction on his words. 

On the mount of transfiguration, while 
a glimpse was given of his glory, the at- 
tention of his three principal apostles was 
directed to his death. This was an essential 
part of his mediatorial undertaking, and 
they were not to be confounded, when at 
Calvary he descended into the lowest vale 
of his humiliation ; or utterly discouraged, 
when by the rage of his enemies he was 
brought to an untimely grave. 

To an unprejudiced and penetrating 
mind the ancient prophecies would dis- 
cover, that Messiah was to suffer a painful 
and ignominious death. This fate was 



441 



obscurely intimated in the very first pro- 
phecy, after our first parents were expell- 
ed from paradise ; the serpent's head was 
to bruise the heel of the ivoman's offspring; 
and in the succeeding prophecies, it was ex- 
pressed in language simple, and not to be 
mistaken ; Messiah was to be cut off, but 
not for himself ; God's righteous servant 
was to give his soul a ransom for many ; 
for the transgression of God's people, was 
he to be stricken ; and so in other instances. 

His death was also shaded forth by seve- 
ral actions of the Jewish law, especially 
the slaughter of the Paschal Lamb every 
year, as well as the sacrifices in the tem- 
ple every day. 

If these prophecies and types were ob- 
scure before Christ's death, they could not 
be so, after it happened. By that event, a 
new light was cast upon the declarations of 
the prophets, and symbols of the law. The 
death of Christ was the key which opened 
up their meaning. It was now clear to 
all who enquired into these matters, or 
took any interest in finding out the truth, 
that Messiah was to die. 

The necessity of Messiah's death, how- 
ever, had never properly attracted the at- 



442 



tention of the apostles. Like all their 
countrymen, they were in full expectation 
of his coming ; as well as carried away by 
the general belief, that he was to be a 
mighty conqueror, who was to set up a 
temporal empire in Judea, and gradually 
extend it over all the earth. 

It was highly necessary, however, that 
this prejudice should be cured ; and on the 
mount a glimpse was given of the true na- 
ture of his kingdom. The three principal 
apostles were assured, that it was to be 
established by sufferings, and not conquest, 
in their sense of the word ; that the rulers 
and chief priests were to prevail over him ; 
that he was to be delivered into the hands 
of the Gentiles, and suffer a painful and 
ignominious death. All this was signified 
in the conversation of Moses and Elias 
with our Lord, however humbling it might 
be to the hopes of his apostles, or con- 
trary to their wishes. 

Thus did the appearance of Moses and 
Elias to Christ serve to warn his three 
principal apostles of his death. To them 
and their brethren this was a sad and dis- 
tressing event, and they were to be brought 
to understand, that it was necessary to se- 



443 



cure the future and eternal interests of the 
world. 

Our relation to the death of Christ is 
not the same as that of the apostles. We 
are called to attend to it, not as an event 
that is to come, but as one that is past. 
We know it as an occurrence in history, 
not as a notice of prophecy. 

It is interesting to us, on account of the 
spiritual mercies which it procures. It 
creates a belief of the favour of God, as well 
as the pardon of sin. It establishes the 
truth of our religion, and teaches us to suf- 
fer and to die. It smoothes the road to the 
grave, and raises our hopes to immortality. 

Should we not recollect the death of 
Christ, then, on account of its transcendant 
benefits ? Have we not the amplest rea- 
sons for dwelling on its advantages ? Ought 
not the happy results of it to be in our 
eye, when we are engaged in solemn or or- 
dinary duties ? 

While, therefore, we are convinced of 
the existence of separate spirits ; while 
we are encouraged to hope, that they are 
employed in errands of mercy and kindness 
to our race ; while we are taught that our 
Lord, as well as his three principal apos- 



444 



ties, were prepared by Moses and Elias for 
his sufferings and death ; let us awfully a- 
dore the depth of that wisdom, which or- 
dained him to suffer and to die ; and at the 
sametime resolve to be grateful for what 
he has done, for our sakes, and in proof of 
our gratitude, follow him unto death, in 
order to rise with him unto life. 



DISCOURSE XXIX. 



ON CHRIST'S RAISING THE WIDOW OF 
NAIN'S SON FROM THE DEAD. 

Luke vii. 11 — 17. 

And it came to pass, the day after, that he 
went into a city called Nain ; and many 
of his disciples went with him^ and much 
people. Now, when he came nigh to the 
gate of the city, behold, there was a dead 
man carried out, the only son of his mo- 
ther, and she ivas a widow : and much 
people of the city was with her. And 
when the Lord saw her, he had compas- 
sion on her, and said unto her, Weep not 
And he came and touched the bier : and 
they that bare him stood still. And he 
said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. 
And he that was dead sat up, and began 
to speak. And he delivered him to his 



446 



mother. And there came a fear on all; 
and they glorified God, saying, That a 
great prophet is risen up among us ; and 
that God hath visited his people. And 
this rumour of him went forth through- 
out all Judea, and throughout all the re- 
gion round about. 



THE miracle here recorded by Luke is 
told with great simplicity, and no person 
can attentively read it, without being al- 
most as much affected, as if he had been 
an eye witness. 

It was performed on the day following 
that, on which our Lord chose his apostles. 
Having called his disciples together, he 
appointed twelve of them to the apostle- 
ship, and after giving them instructions, 
how to conduct themselves in their 
new office ; he entered into Capernaum, 
where he restored the centurion's sick 
servant to health, as mentioned in the be- 
ginning of the chapter ; and staying in 
Capernaum all that night, he set out early 
the next morning, with an intention to visit 
the different districts of Judea, and propo- 
gate his religion as he went along. 



447 



In this journey he was attended by a 
great multitude of people, attracted partly 
by the fame of his character, and partly by 
curiosity to see his person, and hear his 
doctrines. 

After travelling all day with this reti- 
nue, towards evening he reached Nain, a 
small village about twenty miles distant 
from Capernaum, situated in a valley be- 
twixt Mount Hermon and Tabor. 

As he was entering this village, a mourn- 
ful sight presented itself to his view. This 
was the funeral procession of a dead man, 
who was the only son of his mother, and 
what rendered the case more distressing, 
she was a widow. 

In great affliction and bitter anguish, 
this respectable matron was accompanying 
the remains of her son to the grave, who, 
we may well suppose, was very dear to her 
soul. She had endangered her life, in 
bringing him into the world. She had 
spent many a toilsome day, and many a 
sleepless night, in watching over his infant 
years. When in her arms, she had often 
hung uponhim with indescribable fondness, 
and clasped him with rapture to her breast. 
On his engaging countenance she had 



448 



often loved to trace his resemblance to 
that dear friend, who had won her youth- 
ful affections ; and she recollected with 
sad regret, that he was now the only pledge 
of their mutual loves. With increasing 
attachment, she saw him growing up to 
manhood ; and now looked to him, as the 
comfort of her days, and the support of 
her old age. She might even in her 
mind have promised him a length of years, 
and indulging a mother's partial regard, 
cherish the idea, that he would be pros- 
perous in the world, arrive at eminence 
and distinction among his fellow citizens, 
be noticed and respected by all that knew 
him, and an honour and a blessing to the 
place in which he was born. 

Whatever prospects of this kind the 
fond heart of a mother might form to her- 
self, in a dark and dismal hour they were 
all overcast. A blast had come from the 
desert, and all the phantoms, which her 
imagination had conjured up, were swept 
away. The child of her affections and her 
hopes was cut off from the dwellings of 
men, and in a cruel moment, she saw her- 
self left a friendless and solitary individu- 
al in the evening of her days A new 



449 



generation of men were insensibly growing 
up around her, while her husband and 
her darling son were gone to that world, 
from which there is no return. 

With these melancholy impressions on 
her mind, this venerable matron, we have 
said, was accompanying the remains of her 
son to the receptacle of the dead ; and be- 
ing bereft of him, who was so lately the 
pride of her heart, and who alone was left 
of his father ; she could not contain her 
grief, but freely gave vent to her tears. 

A numerous body of the citizens, out 
of regard to herself and her children, as 
well as from respect to the deceased, whose 
memory had not yet been forgotten, at- 
tended her on this occasion. The simple 
villagers of Nain had not yet, from exces- 
sive refinement or false delicacy, learned 
to absent themselves from the house of 
mourning, or refuse the last service, which 
humanity dictates to the deceased. In 
compliance with the calls of feeling and of 
duty, they had assembled in the house of 
the forlorn widow, to bury her only son ; 
and while executing this pious office, they 
had arrived at the gate of the city, when 
Jesus met them. 

2 E 



450 



With the state in which the widow ap- 
peared, and from the share which her at- 
tendants took in her distress, the soul of 
Jesus was sadly touched, and he instantly 
resolved to restore the dead son to the 
weeping mother., Approaching her, there- 
fore, with an air of sympathy, he addressed 
her with no dry maxims of patience, no 
moral reflections on the mortality of man, 
which often tend rather to irritate, than 
cure the wounds of the heart ; but, with 
the voice of tenderness, and the simple 
language of compassion, desired her not 
to weep. He then advanced to the bier, 
on which the young man was laid, while 
those that carried it stood still ; and com- 
manded him that was laid upon it to arise, 
and he that was dead arose, and began to 
speak, and Jesus took and delivered him 
to his mother. 

The raising of this woman's son to life 
was done in the simplest manner. No pre- 
parations of any kind were resorted to. No 
ostentatious arts were used. The will of 
Jesus was expressed, and the effect instant- 
ly followed. As this world arose at first 
into being, at the command of the Almigh- 



451 



ty; so at the bare word of Jesus did the 
widow of Nam's son recover his life. 

No sober man will believe, that any 
aids of deceit were called in on this oc- 
casion. There could be no collusion, be- 
twixt Jesus and the company that attend- 
ed the funeral, or the mother of the deceas- 
ed ; as it does not appear, that he had been 
in the village of Nain before, or had the 
least acquaintance with any of its inhabi- 
tants. They had no doubt heard of him 
by report, and might have been gratified, 
by seeing his person, and hearing his doc- 
trines ; but they had no interest in the 
success of his schemes, nor is it likelv, that 
they would be forward in promoting them. 

This was precisely the case with the 
company, that attended him. They fol- 
lowed him, not to insure his success, or as- 
sist him in any plan of gaining converts ; 
but from the novelty of his character, and 
a desire perhaps of instruction. These 
were the considerations, by which they 
were probably influenced, in coming with 
him from Capernaum ; but they would 
have been as ready, had it been in their 
power, to detect any system of imposture, 
as the villagers of Nain. 



S 



452 



His apostles, indeed, composed a part of 
this retinue, and had an interest in him, 
as they had been chosen to assist him in 
founding a new religion ; but, from their 
ignorance of the world, and great simplici- 
ty of character, they were very unfit in- 
struments of deceit ; and, even if they had 
been men of cunning and address, and 
Jesus and they had agreed to deceive the 
multitude, in all probability they could not 
instantly have gained over any of the 
people of Nain, to favour their views ; or 
even if they had gained them over, in the 
present case they would have been charge- 
able with great folly, in hazarding their 
reputation, in a matter so very open to de- 
tection, as pretending to raise a dead man. 

This miracle, whether real or not, was 
done before a great body of people, and 
granting that it had been pretended, the 
majority of these people could not be in 
the plot. All these were men of plain 
common sense, who could judge distinct- 
ly of a matter of fact, and knew well 
the difference betwixt an event, occur- 
ring according to the common course of 
nature, and one that was contrary to it ; 
and from the numbers of these present, 



453 



if there had been the least room for doubt, 
it was impossible but the falsity of this 
miracle would have been found out ; and 
if its falsity had been found out, we may 
be very certain, that we would have heard 
about it, long before this time. 

As no reasonable doubt then can be en- 
tertained of the reality of this miracle, it 
may be proper to shew some of those les- 
sons of instruction, which it teaches ; and 
one of the most obvious of these is the ami- 
able view, which it gives us of the charac- 
ter of Christ. 

Jesus, who performed this great mira- 
cle, was possessed of every virtue, which 
can adorn human nature. He was re- 
markable for a spirit of devotion, for forti- 
tude, for patience, for meekness, for hu- 
mility ; but of all his virtues, the most 
striking was his benevolence. At the 
sight of distress, he ever felt the impulse 
of compassion, and was ever ready to 
give relief to the wretched. He came 
from heaven with the generous design of 
saving men, and on earth he continually 
went about doing good, He spent his 
days in administering to the wants, both 
of the souls and bodies of men. 



454 



What a beautiful display have we of 
this trait of his character, in working the 
miracle here recorded by Luke ! The on- 
ly son of an aged mother had been snatch- 
ed away by an untimely death ; and, what 
more excites our commiseration, her hus- 
band had experienced the same fate some 
time before. When she had lost her hus- 
band, her son remained, and to him she 
looked both as her stay and her hope ; 
but when she lost her son also, she seem- 
ed deprived of all earthly comfort, and 
gave up her soul to despair. 

In this cruel situation Jesus mercifully 
interposed, and restored to her a life so 
valuable, and so dear ; by such an unex- 
pected turn of good fortune, drying up 
her tears, and turning her sorrow into joy. 

This interference of Jesus manifested 
an uncommon goodness of heart, and ma- 
lice itself could not but own, that it was a 
most beneficent action. If we judge from 
the conduct of men in similar cases, we 
will not hesitate to give it this character. 
A funeral procession is too common an oc- 
currence with us, to make a strong im- 
pression ; and it is to be feared, even if 
we had it in our power, to relieve a discon- 



455 



solate widow, who was burying an only 
son, we would be like the priest and the 
Levite in the parable, who looked on for a 
little, and then passed by on the other 
side ; but Jesus was none of those charac- 
ters, who harden themselves against the 
misfortunes of their fellow creatures. He 
was none of those, who pass by on the 
other side, when they meet an object of 
distress. He had both a tear for misery, 
and an arm stretched out to relieve. 

But, in the second place, this miracle 
gives an illustrious proof of the divine 
misson of Jesus. 

To raise a dead man to life, to recal the 
departed spirit to the clay-cold form, and 
enable it to move and speak as formerly ; 
is the work only of God, or one counte- 
nanced by God. It is in some respects 
equal to creation, as the same power seems 
necessary to make a dead man live, that 
is shewn at first in giving him life. 

The power of raising the dead had not 
been altogether unexampled in the world. 
Some of the ancient prophets possessed 
this power ; but, since the death of Elisha, 
including a period of nine hundred years, 



456 



it had been entirely unknown among men ; 
and before that period it was so rare, that 
only three instances of it are to be found, 
in the whole miraculous history of the Old 
Testament. 

The power, however, of raising the dead 
might justly be thought to belong to Jesus, 
if he was the Messiah. In the ancient 
prophecies concerning the Messiah, it was 
not indeed expressly said, that he was to 
raise the dead ; but when it was predict- 
ed of him, that he was to set the prison- 
ers free, open the prison doors to them 
that were bound, and heal all manner of 
disease, it might be expected that he was 
to possess this power. 

Whether this thought struck any of the 
bystanders or not, all of them behoved to^ 
think, that he was sent from God, They 
had never seen a dead man raised to life, 
and wdien Jesus raised the widow of Nain's 
son, they would readily conclude, that he 
was a divine messenger. The apostles, 
whom he had lately chosen, w^ould be con- 
firmed in this idea, and assist him with 
more alacrity in setting up his spiritual 
empire. Those, who followed him from 
Capernaum, as well as the people of Nain, 



457 



would also be disposed to listen to his 
doctrines, and some of them to embrace 
them. 

Nor would the support, which this great 
miracle gave to his pretensions as a di- 
vine teacher, be confined to those only, who 
were in his train, or at the funeral. The 
fame of it would spread through all the 
neighbourhood, and prepare men to receive 
him in that character. There eame a fear 
on all, it is said, and they glorified God, say- 
ing, that a great pi*ophet is risen up apiong 
us ; and this report, namely, that h$ was 
a great prophet, went through all Judea, 
and the region round about. 

Even men in every age may be con- 
vinced by this great miracle, that Christ 
was the Son of God ; and to us it gives the 
same lesson. When we read, that Jesus 
approached the bier of a dead man, that 
was carrying out to burial, and at a word 
recalled the spirit to the habitation which 
it had left, we cannot doubt one moment, 
that he acted under a divine commission. 
No man could do the work, which he did 
on this occasion, unless God had been 
with him. In vain was it to be expected, 
that any man could raise the dead, but he 



458 



who had the sanction of heaven on his 
side. 

But farther, in the third place, this mira- 
cle fills a good man with confidence in God, 
when labouring under affliction. Afflic- 
tions are the lot of all men, when travel- 
ling through life. Often does the stroke 
of calamity descend. Often are our hearts 
wrung with distress. Poverty, disease, and 
the death of friends, are evils with which we 
are constantly meeting. Man is born to 
trouble, says the scripture, as the sparks fly 
upward. 

In this situation of our affairs, we are 
too ready to despond. Then we are apt 
to say, that there is no ruler of the uni- 
verse ; or, at least, that he cares not for 
the children of men. Then we cry out, 
when shall our misfortunes be over ? when 
shall our griefs come to an end ? when 
shall the day of prosperity again arrive ? 
When shall it be with us, as in months that 
are past ? when shall our hearts again be 
glad ? when shall we lie down with tran- 
quillity of mind, and rise up but to fresh- 
ness of delight ? 

Whenever our troubles incline us to 
make such reflections, let us remember the 



459 



widow of Nain. When she had been de- 
prived of her only son, who was the joy 
of her heart, and on whom she doated 
with a mother's fondness ; when he had 
closed his eyes in death, was carried out 
for burial, and the grave ready to receive 
him ; when all hope was now gone, and 
sad despair had taken possession of her 
heart ; relief was unexpectedly given. By 
the merciful interposition of Jesus, at this 
critical moment, this darling of her affec- 
tions was restored to her arms. 

When bearing calamities, we cannot in- 
deed expect, that God will work miracles 
in our behalf. The age of miracles is now 
past, and Jesus of Nazareth is no longer on 
earth, to raise our dead relations to life : 
yet we maybe assured, that the same power, 
w 7 hich raised the widow of Nain's son, is 
ready to be exerted in our cause. The 
great Governor of the universe is interested 
in our affairs. The Father of Christ, who 
glorified his Son, by the miracles which he 
sent him to work, is our Almighty friend. 
He ardently wishes the happiness of all his 
creatures, and it is our comfort to know, 
that he will either put an immediate end 



460 



to our troubles, or in the end convert them 
to our good. 

Lastly, the subject before us tells us, 
that there is another world beside the pre- 
sent, and that death is not the end of man. 

Before the coming of Christ, men were 
under great uncertainty about a future 
state. The feelings of nature were strong 
in its favour, and it derived great support 
from the most probable conclusions of 
reason ; but still they had no positive as- 
surance of its truth. No one had ever re- 
turned from the country, supposed to be 
beyond the grave. When once the body- 
was laid in the dust, no one could say what 
was become of the soul. Death seemed to 
terminate all those hopes, that were some- 
times entertained of futurity. A darkness 
hung over the tomb, which no human in- 
genuity could clear up ; and even if glimpses 
at times were given of a land on the other 
side of time* it w T as still a land unknown 
and unexplored. 

In this state of things Jesus came into 
this world, and cast a clear light upon life 
and immortality. He taught a series of 
doctrines, the very design of which was to 
prepare men for another world, and he 



461 



gave experimental proofs of its existence, 
by raising the dead. He raised the daugh- 
ter of a Jewish ruler, he raised the widow 
of Nain's son, he raised Lazarus ; and to 
crown all these confirmations of it, he him- 
self entered the cold mansions of the dead, 
spoiled death of its power by returning to 
life, ascended in triumph to heaven, and 
is preparing habitations of bliss for all his 
friends, whom, with all mankind, he is to 
raise at the last day. 

There is then another world beside the 
present, a world into which every human 
being shall enter. Though at death we 
shall all be laid in the bowels of the earth ; 
yet we shall not be confined for ever to 
the dreary regions of the grave. Though 
worms may destroy these forms of ours, 
yet in our flesh we shall see God. The 
day shall arrive, when all the parts of the 
animal machine shall again be fitted up, 
and the soul once more direct its move- 
ments. There is a time fixed in futurity, 
when purged of corruption, and rendered 
immortal, the body shall be a fitter habi- 
tation for the soul then ever. 

How consolatory is such an assurance to 
creatures like men ! Formed with strong 



462 

desires after life, and fearing death as our 
greatest enemy ; meeting with frequent 
disappointments, subjected to many cala- 
mities, and torn with bitter griefs ; how 
welcome to us must be the intelligence, 
that though at death our present system be 
destroyed, yet we shall live, and may be 
happy, in a future state of being, that shall 
know no end. 

Such, christians, is the excellent instruc- 
tion, which this great miracle affords. It 
calls forcibly into view the lovely character 
of Christ, and warms our hearts to him, as 
the most benevolent of men. It stirs up 
and confirms our belief of his divine mis- 
sion. It cheers up and causes the soul to 
rest upon God in affliction. It extends our 
prospects to another world, and gives sa- 
tisfactory proofs of its reality. 

These noble lessons of instruction let 
us lay up in faithful hearts, and reduce to 
constant practice. Let us love the Lord 
Jesus Christ for the philanthropy of his 
disposition, and imitate his example in do- 
ing good to the distressed. Let us re- 
member the miracles which he wrought, 
and receive him as the messenger of hea- 
ven to sinful men. Let us trust in the 



463 



power and goodness of God, to deliver 
from calamities, when he sees proper. Let 
us live in the faith of a future state of be- 
ing, and that the body shall be raised again, 
to be the companion of the soul. 

Let us be taught in all these ways by 
this great miracle. Let us cherish all the 
dispositions, which it is fitted to awaken ; 
as well as practise all the duties, which it 
recommends ; and when we go into the 
other world, we shall lift up our eyes in 
the kingdom of our father, and ever be 
with Christ his Son, who is the Lord of 
both worlds, and will bestow a crown of 
glory on his true servants, when their la- 
bours are come to an end. 



THE END. 



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